Beyond Brokenness Comes Beauty
by VooDooJazzyMagic
Summary: When your troubled background of psychological abuse shapes all of your relationships without you even realizing it, it's easy to feel safe with the internet between you. You never imagined that it was really him. And it's you he finds intriguing.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of the characters there-in. I just wanna mess with their heads a bit. This story is extremely OOC, so keep that in mind pretty please. There are no vampires. In this story, let vampirism equate to beauty and confidence.**

**I have been writing stories for quite some time, but this is my first fan-fiction, so bear with me, lovelies...and I dunno about you's guys, but one of my pet peeves is different points of view...I cannot stand to read the same event over and over from different perspectives, so please don't expect me to write it LOL. If that ever were to become absolutely necessary or perhaps demanded by my probably one fan out there, I might reconsider for small excerpts. Highly unlikely however. I hope you enjoy the mad workings of my mind!**

**Please please slip me a review just to let me know if you like it, or sucks big time so I can just go ahead and know I fail in general. I would actually love suggestions since this obviously is not a finished story and who knows where the hell the wind will blow these people. There will be some lemons, of course, but I am much more turned on by the little things in life...not a size reference...I mean, the true chemistry can be in the other things that attract people and pull them in so don't expect rated x smut full of thrusting here and there and everywhere LOL. But I digress.**

**My amazing Beta, long live the queen, is Danell.**

**"...In brokenness comes beauty...Divine fragility..." **

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Chapter One

_Three a.m. Perfect time to go grocery shopping. Even in Los Angeles, there just aren't that many people with a burning desire to buy fruit in the middle of the night. What a relief._

I pulled into the _Ralph's_ parking lot, maneuvering my black Range Rover SUV into a spot in the very front, looking around at all the empty spaces suspiciously. I didn't see anyone. That didn't mean they weren't there. _Sigh. How had this become my life? I'm just being paranoid._

But I didn't really believe that. _Do paranoid people ever admit that they are just being paranoid? And is it paranoia if it's true?_ I grabbed my purse from the seat beside me, checking my reflection in the mirror first. Satisfied that there were no errant nose hairs or odd smudges of things on my face, _occupational hazard_, I slid my aviators onto my face, pulled the hood of my charcoal zip-up sweatshirt up over my head and reached for the door, hopping down from the seat, my black Nike trainers cushioning the contact with the hard concrete. My feet still hurt from being on them for over a twelve hour shift and I winced slightly. A nice soak in the tub when I got home was sounding better and better. And a glass of wine. _Shit, a whole bottle of wine_.

The night air was just barely brisk, and there was a nice breeze that kissed my scrub clad body as I walked away, clicking the remote door lock a third time for good measure. _I am practically textbook OCD._ _No, just textbook retard. How therapeutic is that? _I suddenly realized I'd left my list in the office at the Emergency Room; I would have to wing it. Of course, I already couldn't think of what I was shopping for to begin with. I always needed produce, since that encompassed a great deal of my diet. Alcohol, perhaps?

The sliding glass doors whooshed open and I veered to the right, grabbing a buggy, bee lining it immediately for the lettuce. _Sigh._ The highlight of my life had become sneaking to the grocery in the middle of the night. My existence had become so lame. And I didn't like the way any of the lettuce looked. Sickly. I moved on to the apples, immediately feeling my lungs tighten at the sight of about fifteen different varieties, and my God how does one choose after working twelve hours and ducking photographers every way one turns. Being paranoid again. _No, simply whiney._

I was standing, transfixed, with apple in hand, trying to decide between Golden Delicious, Granny Smith and Gala when I felt someone's eyes on me. I slammed the apple down too roughly and pushed my buggy onward. I was not in the mood for questions. And definitely not in the mood for pictures. I tried to be nonchalant and whiz to the other side of the produce section at the same time. I thought I heard footsteps behind me, so I became utterly fascinated with the bananas and prayed the person would pass me by.

"Pardon me," a male voice said rather softly, obviously to me because there was no one else in a five-mile-radius.

I continued analyzing the bananas. Truth be told, I did not intend to buy bananas. They were too ripe, and if there was one thing I could not abide, it was a ripe banana. But without realizing it, I had begun to pile bananas into my cart. I could feel my fair complexion flushing, and my palms were beginning to sweat. I knew my scrubs were a thin cotton material, but they all of a sudden felt extremely heavy and hot. I reached for more bananas.

"I'm sorry, aren't you-"

"Nope. I'm not," I cut him off grasping two more bunches. _What the hell was I doing?_

"Well, I was just going to say-" he continued, clearing his throat, sounding very uncomfortable. _Why was HE uncomfortable?_

"Look," I turned to the side and angled around my buggy, putting it and the growing mound of bananas between the lurker and myself.

"I don't know what you want, but I'm just..." _Just what? What the HELL am I doing?_

"Buying out the bananas, yes I see that," he chuckled. That was when I noticed he had an English accent. The way he pronounced the name of the fruit made even me want to eat them. Seductive. _Fucking Limeys_.

"What exactly do you want?" I knew I was starting to sound a bit shrill.

I finally raised my eyes, for the first time, to the stranger who was interrupting my banana spree and had to refrain from sucking in my breath dramatically. I'm sure I already appeared to be a lunatic, gasping and clutching the produce island wouldn't help matters much.

He had raised his hands in an "I surrender" gesture and a small smirk had spread across his features. _I wasn't sure what was so amusing. The fact that I now had a half-full cart of bananas, or the perspiration that had beaded up across my features before I even saw who he was._ He was dressed per the usual, in that casual but purposeful slouch attire that had girls across the globe swooning. With the release of the fourth, and final, in the series of action-romance-sci-fi-comedy-drama films from which he had become a world renowned movie star, it was amazing to me that the mania surrounding him had not really decreased at all. So great, it was me and celebrities **worthy** of being stalked who shopped at _Ralph's_ at three o'clock on a Thursday morning.

He was smirking more openly now, his gray blue eyes shining mischievously at my expression, or lack there of. I still had not spoken. I was trying desperately to think of what to say and then realized I had my black wayfarer's on in the middle of the night, in the middle of an empty grocery store. He must truly think I was one of the many nuts who roll down to California.

I straightened up and flipped a long strand of chocolate brown hair out of my face before looking away. No need to break down and start screaming like a nut that fell from a tree. _Boy does THAT thought take me back. _It has been ages since I'd checked Facebook. I felt that old familiar pull and pushed it away. The spell was broken. I was a different person now. I had a life. I had a boyf- _well, an ex-boyfriend who chose to remain in my life until the end of eternity. Sigh._

"I'm sorry, what did you say you wanted?" _Good plan. Pretend you don't know who the hell he is. This is LA; he could very easily be a vagrant asking for money. Yes, give him your 'vagrant don't ask me for money' face_.

I set my eyes, despite the sunglasses, and looked at him again, desperate to convey that I was not aware of his celebrity, only now he was openly laughing at me. His eyes were dancing with amusement - _did I smell cannabis? -_ And his mouth was wide open in mid-cackle when he saw that I was looking at him again. He stopped immediately, with some effort, but the small smirk remained.

"I just wanted to ask you a question," He grinned, "Only apparently, you thought I was some kind of **stalker**," THIS was apparently of paramount amusement and he openly chuckled. _Well, I guess I did deserve that_.

"Um," I bit my lip and tried to decide what exactly I should say. I couldn't tell him he didn't understand what it was like to be followed around every time I left my apartment, to have my picture on the front of all the local smut trash, to have people faking complaints at the ER to try and get an interview. I'd only dealt with this for two weeks, and through an accident of sorts. He'd been dealing with it for five years now, since the release of his first series film. I'm sure he'd been through much worse.

"Well, that was your choice," I spit out before I realized he couldn't hear the thoughts in my head. _Oh God, had I just come down with schizophrenia and was hearing voices?_

"I mean," I immediately waved aside his confused look, which amazingly STILL held a goofy looking grin, and continued, "What?"

"What?" he looked totally taken aback.

"What?" I pressed. "WHAT is your question?" The old stand-by returned to me and I began grasping a bunch of bananas.

"Okay, calm down!" he laughed, reaching across my buggy and trying to take the bananas from me.

"There's a whole island, get your own," I looked at him incredulously; obviously ready to fight a stranger over bananas I didn't even want.

He reached further and his hand covered mine. His eyes held a slightly serious look now, with just a hint of amusement in them. _He's decided you're an escaped mental patient and he is going to help you find your way home. _The second his skin came in contact with mine, _of course, even HIS pale skin is darker than mine, I lamented;_ I felt a shock. Like static electricity. I jumped and dropped the bananas, pulling myself away and edging around the side of my cart again. He looked down at his hand fleetingly and back up at me with a strange expression. Had he felt it too? _He's just wondering why anyone of the female persuasion would have such an aversion to his hand as to jump and run._

"Okay, seriously," I felt very disoriented suddenly. This was not the way a celebrity sighting was supposed to go. You were supposed to stalk THEM, not vice-versa.

"Have the bananas," I finished, "I have to go."

"Do you really NEED all these bananas? Are you alright?" he seriously looked concerned.

"I'm fine! I thought you were another one of THEM," I spat at him. "I just got a little disoriented, I suppose-" _holy shit you are rambling about being disoriented to one of the most famous men in the world._

"Another one of WHOM?" he leaned in conspiratoriously, making me flush at his sudden close proximity. He noticed, _of course,_ and smiled slightly.

"Um, never mind. It doesn't matter. Nice to meet you, um..." I turned on my heel, jolted by the squeak from the soles on linoleum and practically ran to the exit.

**/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/**

"Wait!" I heard the now-familiar English voice calling.

Damn my bottomless pit of a purse! I could be barreling out of the parking lot right now, instead of standing at the hood of my car, up to my armpit in my brown leather bag.

"Please, leave me alone!" I yelled. _Why was I yelling? _"I've already made enough of an ass of myself," I whispered too loudly.

"How did you do that?" he approached the SUV cautiously. "Didn't you want your bananas?"

"NO! I did not even WANT bananas!"

"Then what the fuck" he motioned toward the store, but when I put up one hand to stop him, he did. He rolled his eyes and threw his hands up again as a peace offering.

"Look," I sighed after a moment's silence, aware that he had not taken his eyes from my face. I was not accustomed to a stranger, of sorts, making such intense eye contact and it was unnerving. "I don't know WHY I am explaining this. It will sound retarded." _To YOU. I left off the part where it would sound retarded to a mega-star who is accustomed to running for his life if he wants a gallon of milk._

"I doubt it," he said dryly, then motioned for me to continue.

"Okay, um," I readjusted my stance, slinging my bag back onto the hood of the car and rolling my eyes at the sound of the keys clanking about. "In a nut-shell," _haha, NUTshell----__**focus dammit!**_ "I have been being slightly harassed lately by the media."

"NO!" he gasped softly, his left hand clutching his right elbow as his right hand flew to his mouth as though astonished. "What ever for?" he looked at me as though I might perhaps, be a criminal.

"You don't live around here do you?" my eyes narrowed, noting his mocking tone. "There was an accident, beginning of last week, involving the...um, mayor...and his mistress." My eyes fell to the ground. This story was so MORE than annoying by now.

"Are you the mayor's mistress?" he faked being appalled, his eyes widened and his mouth hung open. _Mocking me again._

"No!" I answered, indignantly.

"Well, that got your knickers in a twist," he laughed.

"Okay, I explained. Now, what did you want to begin with?" I grabbed my bag and began digging once more, eager to NOT meet those piercing blue eyes again. I didn't like his looks, or his teasing. I was not a fan-girl anymore. Those days were over. Not that I ever WAS a fan-girl. _Whatever._

"Well, I did want your advice about something culinary," he sighed deeply, as though I had ruined some genius plan in the kitchen. I could feel him staring still, so of course I was red as a tomato, and still digging in the fucking Mary Poppins bag.

Suddenly, the bag was whisked out of my hands and he gave me a defiant look as he plunged his arm down inside, his fingers groping around the contents. He kept his eyes locked on mine, which were HORRIFIED and unable to break away from his. There was something very disturbing about the way he looked at me while rummaging around in my...purse..._dear God, what might he find??? _He seemed to sense my embarrassment, although perhaps not the cause and he consciously channeled his gaze to include a slight smile. His eyes danced mischievously in delight at my chagrin and there was a twinkle of something...almost...naughty? _Yes, I am officially a retard._

"Ta-da!" his grin broke out completely as he produced the keys, dangling them out in front of me, but just out of reach when I grabbed for them.

"Uh uh," he shook his head.

"Thank you?" I said the first thing that came to mind.

"You are welcome," he smiled and then shook his head again, "But that's not what I wanted," he almost leered in amusement.

_Holy shit! What does that mean?_ What grade was I in? I was blushing like an idiot. _Surely, he doesn't mean what I am pretending in my sick, now deranged mind... _He stepped forward, allowing me to clutch my bag from him. Somehow, it managed to wedge itself against my chest, under my crossed arms, as though it were armor. I felt my lameness again and blushed five shades of red. He grinned, knowing exactly what he did to women, and using it to his advantage. _Damn him! I am not THAT girl!_

"Well," I stepped back, "I don't know WHAT you wanted or WHAT you feel you're ENTITLED to..."

"Why would I feel entitled?" he was baiting me. I had yet to acknowledge that I knew who he was. I had done everything to prevent him from knowing. _Why, exactly?_

"I...uh...well, just because...you're male," I stammered. _Smooth._

"I see," he chuckled, "Well, I do not feel ENTITLED to anything, but I did think perhaps you and I could have a drink." _Still an alcoholic, I see._

"Oh, no, um- out of the question," I was already in the papers, I was not going out anywhere with him. Suddenly, a thought occurred and my eyes darted around...

"No one is there," he murmured, almost embarrassed, "The car park is empty."

I smiled in spite of myself. _Car park. Sigh. No, absolutely not. Walk away, you moron. Run! Oh, he has my keys still._

"Okay, I really have to go," I reached for my keys, but he didn't release them.

"Where?"

"Home!" my eyes widened. "It's well after three o'clock!"

"Yeah," he nodded seriously, "And what? You just got off work at this hour?" He was raking his eyes over my gray-blue scrubs, and I didn't know whether to feel flattered or extremely uncomfortable. _Uncomfortable. I'm not his type, it makes me feel inferior._

"Yes, I did. I work in an Emergency Room. Tonight I worked the 3-3 shift, so I'm on my way home." _Did he need all that information?_

"And just needed to make a banana run first?" he was laughing again.

"I explained about the bananas," I was humiliated. This man had consumed my thoughts and dreams for almost a year. That had been over four years ago, and I honestly hadn't thought of him much since, except to see the new movies when they were released. I had become very fulfilled with work, continuing my education and receiving a Nurse Practitioner's license, and was happy with my job in the ER. Now, standing in front of him, I felt vulnerable, and naked. And not in a good way.

"I'm just teasing," he chuckled. "So, how about that drink? Most places are closed," he looked around as though a bar would suddenly appear in the middle of the 'car park', and then his eyes found mine again.

"We can go to my hotel," he immediately saw my expression change, "Or your place! We can go to your place! You can help me with my recipe."

"Contrary to what you may think of females, not all of us cook," I frowned. _What are you doing? You're an excellent cook._

"No, of course not," he frowned in acceptance. Something in his eyes saddened me. Was he lonely? Where were his friends? Why was he roaming around Los Angeles grocery stores in search of culinary advice?

The idea struck me as humorous for some reason and I giggled.

"Good grief, I've never worked so hard for a smile in my entire life!" he exclaimed, smiling back at me. "And your smile is lovely," he craned his neck downward in a strange fashion, serious again, suddenly very close. It felt intimate somehow. _Right._

I took the moment to snatch my keys from his hand. His eyes changed to a bemused surprise and I realized I was making this too fun for him. He was used to girls running after him, not AWAY. Of course, it didn't make him think I was a lunatic, it intrigued him. I was a conquest at best. And that infuriated me.

"Ha," my eyes flashed as I took a few steps back, bumping into my car door. I felt a bit maniacal. I could see he was confused.

"I'm not in the habit of taking strangers, especially strange MEN, back to my apartment," I knew my tone was haughty, but I had to keep myself safe from feeling vulnerable.

"I apologize. I wasn't insinuating you did, honestly," he looked hurt, and... sad again. _Don't look in its eyes! Look away. It's all a trap._

"Of course not," I nodded, "But it's late and I really have to go." My expression had shut down, and he could see it. I saw his shoulders slump as my message got through to him.

"You have a car here, I assume?" I waved my hand when I saw his eyes brighten, "Because, um... I mean... I'll call you a cab, gladly, if you're on foot." I knew the black Porsche Carrerra parked three feet away was most likely his and my suspicions were confirmed when his eyes darted to it.

"No, I have my car."

"Okay, good then," I clicked the un-lock button and pulled on my driver's side door.

"I really do apologize for bothering you," he stepped forward once.

"No, you didn't bother me," I felt something stab my gut. _Great, appendicitis brought on by a stressful celebrity sighting turned exercise in humiliation._

"I still don't know that many people here," he tried, "I live mainly in London." I knew of several other celebrity types that he knew and had seen his picture in various magazines with them. Why wasn't he with any of them?

"Don't believe everything you read, remember," he nodded and muttered as though to himself. _What is he, a wizard?_

I felt like my insides were going to combust for some reason. _Is this what people felt like when their intestines exploded?_

"Oh, well, it takes time...to meet people," I waved his comment aside and opened my door all the way.

"Maybe we could get together another time?" he pressed. _What did he want? To humiliate me on more than one occasion? To do it publicly? _

"Um, well, I'm really very busy," I hemmed, starting to close the door, until he moved to a position where I would've taken off his shoulder in the action.

"So am I," he nodded thoughtfully. "But drinks... I mean one drink. One drink." _Ha! He knows he's a rumored alcoholic!_

"I'm sorry," I felt the tears coming. I hadn't even realized they were threatening, when they were suddenly there. I fought them back, blinking and rubbing my burning eyes. "I'm extremely tired," I explained to his now wide eyes. _Certainly, he thinks I am insane. That must be the point. A good laugh for him and his pals. The crazy, not so attractive girl he picked up at the grocery store at 3 a.m. buying all the bananas._

"Please move," I stated pointedly, shutting my door when he did.

I didn't look at him again. I started the car and immediately The Kings of Leon were blaring loud enough to hear five blocks away. I winced and turned the knob down slightly, glancing in my peripheral vision to see his crooked smirk had reappeared. _Why was I fighting the urge to give him the finger?_ I ignored his amused stare and put my car into drive, my hand raising slightly to wave at the person I pretended was not there, and sped off and out of the parking lot.

That had to be THE worst celebrity 'meet' in history. I sped home unable to keep the horrific thoughts from flooding my mind. I'm not sure why I was so sure he had nothing better to do than gossip with his mates about clearly disturbed girls who actually **resisted** being picked up by the most famous Englishman in current history; but I just knew that he and his friends would get a good laugh out of this one.

**/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/**

I woke up unable to breathe, a cry escaping my lips. I sat straight up, clutching the bed sheets, which were damp with sweat. Amazingly, waking up had not made me feel better. I had dreamed, in perfect detail, of the late night events, only everything had been distorted into horrific images accompanied by wacky music. Similar to being in a 'Funhouse' at a Carnival. My head was spinning; my thoughts racing—Please let it have all been a dream. Of course, it wasn't. _Only you would be lame enough to turn a ridiculous embarrassment into a blood-chilling nightmare worthy of sweat and tears_.

My Weimeramer let out a series of whimpers from his large, circle dog-bed a few feet away.

"It's alright, Jake," I sighed and he groaned back down into his comfortable position.

I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed my phone. There was only one person I could call. I let out a long sigh and dialed Alice.

"Hmmm?" she answered on the second ring, obviously asleep and very groggy. _How could she sleep at a time like this?_

"Alice?" I whimpered, barely able to hold it together.

"Oh my God, Bella? Is that you?" I could hear her bed creak and groan and she shuffled around and sat up. I could picture the worry on her face and I tried to calm down. I did try.

"Holy hell, A—It's the worst... absolutely worst fucking day of my entire fucking life!!!" I sobbed.

"Worse than when Emmett dumped you?" she asked in shock.

"Not helping, Ali!!!!"

"Sorry. Sorry. Explain," she was sounding sleepy again, knowing I was alive, I suppose she didn't see the urgency.

"You can't imagine what I've done," I proceeded before beginning a rushed and tear slurred version of the night's history. I began to think she wouldn't even be able to understand a word I was saying, I had become so hysterical. _Hell, I could barely understand, and I was there!_

But suddenly, she stopped me.

"You did WHAT?" I heard her feet hit the floor and then stomping around in her closet. _Uh oh._

"Blue Moon Cafe. Fifteen minutes," she barked at me, hanging up the phone immediately.

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**4/29--I have updates coming sometime later today. New chapters! I would love to hear what you people reading think though, ideas are always welcome! xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything Twilight. If I did, I would be living in the Caribbean sipping pina colada's and working on my not-tan, not sitting here typing away and watching Burn Notice re-runs.**

**My most fabulous Beta is Danell...as of today she owns my soul and gets my first-born offspring for putting up with me.**

**Please slip me some lovin' and tell your friends, I'm a whore that way *shrug-winks***

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Chapter Two

There was a reason that Alice, or Mary Alice Brandon as she was referred to by fans the world over, had become my best friend. The petite brunette was feisty as hell and would do anything to protect me. I had no family to speak of. My mother had apparently died years ago, and after being estranged from her since preschool, I really had never spent too much time obsessing over it. My father and I lived thousands of miles away from each other and had little, if not nothing to say. I sent him gifts for his birthday and Christmas. I got a birthday card from his secretary, his name stamped inside, with a check or money order for $22.64, which I never cashed. If we spoke on the phone, which had been six years, he asked me who I was screwing now. We did not have, what you would call, a healthy relationship. Alice Brandon was my family.

I sat across from her at the cafe now, watching her dig into the loaded omelette she ordered with total abandon. I sipped my coffee somewhat bitterly. I loved Alice, "Ali", as I usually referred to her. But it was the kind of love that one has for a princess they just happened to know intimately well. You may love them, but you can't relate. She was stunningly gorgeous. Her jet-black hair, an ash-black hue now for the winter months, mixed with her bright blue eyes and flawless skin for true perfection. And despite the fact she had silky fair skin, she was not plagued with paleness year-round. She tanned beautifully. Her hair never frizzed. Her teeth were pearly white and straight. _She was married to a god._ Oh, yeah. Her husband, Jasper Whitlock, was not only the sexiest thing to walk Los Angeles, but adored her more than the air he breathed. The fact that his step-brother, Emmett McCarty was my ex, only slightly hampered the relationship.

"Bella? Earth to Isabella Marie Swan?" Alice was waving around her fork in exasperation. "Where were you just now?"

"Thinking about you," I smiled, "And how much you love me."

"I do, you know," she smiled softly before furrowing her beautiful brow. "Now, I need you to tell me this again. Start from the beginning."

"Agghhh, Ali! Come on! I've told it twice! It's not going to change!"

"You must've left something out," she leaned forward, waiting for the scoop, then once again getting distracted by her omelette.

"No. Nothing got left out. It was utter humiliation and degradation. I wanted to die. I almost cried in front of him. He laughed at me. I. Hate. Him." I looked at her pointedly. Our eyes met and we both stifled back a giggle. Our laughter rang out in the cafe and the few patrons they had eyed us suspiciously.

"Ah, Bella... _Those_ were the days," Alice sighed, wiping a tear from her eye. I tried to stifle my hysterics, but exhaustion only made them worse.

"Ugghh, whatever, Al," I rolled my eyes, "I know you wouldn't go back to that time if you could. You have the perfect life!"

"Nothing's perfect, Bells," she looked at me intently, and then smiled, "But I guess my life comes pretty close."

"Yeah, lucky bitch. How's Jazz? I haven't talked to him in a while, it feels like," I asked.

"He's good. He says Emmett misses you," she lowered her voice.

"Yeah, I'm sure," I muttered. _God, when had I become this old bitter woman?_

"Okay, change of subject," Alice perked up. "Did it ever occur to you that Edw—"

"Don't. Don't say his name, please. It's less real that way," I shuddered and pulled my gray hoodie closer around me.

"Okay," I could tell she really didn't understand. _How could she?_ "Did it ever occur to you that, this person, maybe truly wanted to get to know you?"

"No," I looked at her like she'd grown another head. _Was she kidding?_

"Did you not _hear_ my story?" I asked her in shock. It seemed so obvious to me.

"Yes..." she said cautiously. "And if there is one thing I know about you, is you have taken every little thing he said and did and turned it into something malicious. Like he was mocking you."

"He was!!"

"Bella!" she looked stricken. "For what purpose? Don't you think he has better things to do with his life?"

"Apparently not." I scoffed. "I mean, he WAS at _Ralph's_ at 3 a.m. searching for someone to help him cook. _Still_ don't know what that was about."

"I guess we never will," Alice spoke so softly, I was unsure whether she intended me to hear or not. Her eyes told me she had.

"Whose side are you on?" I felt my face going red.

"I didn't know there were 'teams' to join," she teased, her skin still a damn perfect shade of soft ivory cream.

"Very funny. Can you be serious? This was humiliating!"

"Why? I must be missing something, Bella," Alice shook her perfect, glossy raven head, as though to taunt me and flashed her perfect, strait white teeth.

"Why did I think you would understand? You've never understood when it comes to my insecurities with men!" I accused, although I knew as I said it that it was unfair.

"That's not fair, Bella," she said calmly. _I knew she'd say that. Damn pixie mind reader._

"Well how can you really understand? Things have always come easily for you! You're beautiful, without even trying! I work non-stop and at _best_, am meagerly attractive! You—"

"I am not going to listen to the same assault on yourself, Bella. It's just not true. Wake up and see yourself the way other people see you. You're beautiful! I'm sorry that you were put down your whole life by your father and that you can't let a man get close to you. Emmett wanted to spend his life with you—"

"Oh Lord. Emmett dumped ME, remember?" I spat at her angrily. _Why was I angry at her? It was the stupid limey I was mad at. Wait. Why was I mad at him again? Oh, yeah, he made me feel like shit. On purpose. Right._

"Em _begged_ you to go to counseling, to open your eyes and let him love you, to believe you were worthy of it—"

"I can't do this right now," I stood. I had never really told my friends all the details about our break-up. To many friendships were on the line and it wasn't worth it to me to feel justified. We were getting loud and people were starting to feel uncomfortable. _I was one of them._ "I'll call you later."

"Please do, Bella," my best friend said softly. She was so calm; she'd barely got worked up at all, and only at the end when defending her brother-in-law. I knew what they all thought of me where Emmett was regarded. I knew they thought I had ruined my chance at happiness. Alice and Jasper loved me enough, thank God, to not throw it in my face. They were amazing people. _More_ than family to me.

As I climbed into my SUV I pulled my iPhone out of the recesses of my cavernous purse and hit redial.

**/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/**

I seemed to spend a lot of time over the next few days in Borders on 3rd Street Promenade in Santa Monica. I lived on 2nd Street in a purchased condo that I had gutted and refurbished. I liked the ease of the neighborhood, even though it could be quite touristy in some areas of Santa Monica in general. I loved walking a few blocks north and up Montana Avenue to my local Pavilions grocery or continuing onward where there were an interesting mix of eclectic shops and cafes.

I'm not sure what was calling me to the tourist trap Promenade, but I inevitably wound up in Borders, the largest size of _cafe au lait_ available, 'accidentally' winding up in the magazine section. Where of course, pictures of him were everywhere. I pretended that I was looking for House and Garden or some other decorating magazines.

I genuinely loved looking at the pictures and reading the articles of house renovations and remodeling. I wasn't as keen on landscaping, although I definitely appreciated it's beauty, I couldn't relate really. I preferred living in an apartment, and the selling point with the condo I had ultimately purchased was that it came with it's own private courtyard which happened to have a pool in it. The only reason I had been able to afford it was the seller had agreed through his attorneys to sell it for a fraction of it's worth, simply to avoid all the renovations it required. It was an older building and aside from the fact that it wasn't going to literally fall apart over my head, everything else was kaput and needed to be redone. The courtyard even looked like something Miss Havesham would have frequented in her love-lorn walks amongst her ruins in _Great Expectations_.

It had taken me three years to whittle away at project after project, hiring help only for those endeavors that I simply could not physically perform myself. I still had some aesthetic tweaking to do here and there, but essentially, the condominium was finished, and it looked fabulous. It lived even better.

But these past few days, despite my hand grabbing up my usual Architectural Digest and West Coast House, as I sat in a vacant corner of the bookstore on an upper floor with my ear buds in, relaxing to Flogging Molly, I found suddenly that my stack of periodicals was peppered with entertainment publications and smut mags. I was horrified as I realized I had been sitting for two hours staring at pictures of him, on more than one occasion the magazine held close up to my face as I tried to determine if something in his eyes would explain the other night. _It's official. You've lost your mind._

On one such evening, as I stared diligently at one such picture and perused the article linking him to his leading lady from his popular film series, I found myself trying to figure out their body language. The pictures were taken from an after-party of another friend's film and usually it was not just the two of them snapped. They looked happy in each other's company, as they always had, and the chemistry between them was undeniable. It had been over a year since their last movie together had been released, much less filmed, and yet they were still 'friends.' I wondered.

Of course, honestly I had to admit that most of the photographs I'd seen pertained to projects he was currently filming, or occasionally him out on the town seeing one of his friend's play in a pub. His closest mates were all abroad currently apparently, according to the _Star_, and he was burying himself in his work wholeheartedly. _Except for his early morning-late night haunts at local grocery stores to throw you into a total mind-fuck_

I had thankfully just thrown down all the gossip magazines onto a nearby table, making my way to the restroom. My last Molly iTunes playlist had just rotated to the original song and I juggled my coffee, remaining architectural mags and my iPhone so that I could turn the music off when I heard someone clear their throat. I looked up into a dark corner to the left, in the direction of the persistent hacking, and saw him. He was pointedly motioning for me to walk toward him, but keeping to his small cubby tucked behind several bookshelves. He was wearing about sixteen layers of clothes, a skull cap and a full beard along with thick black glasses.

I wanted to keep walking and pretend I had not seen him, but my shocked expression and repressed chuckle gave away that I had. I tentatively removed one ear bud as I approached him, my voice soft.

"What the hell are you doing?" I laughed and crouched down beside him after he beckoned me to.

"Hiding," he answered with a laugh.

"From whom?" I was still going with my pretense of not knowing who he was, and I could see in his eyes that he knew it. To his credit, he did not call me on it.

"Debt collectors," he narrowed his eyes and smiled as if certainly this were the proper way to go about avoiding a few past due bills.

"Ah, well, I was just leaving," I lied. I had nothing to do and had planned on perusing various works of fiction before being detained.

"Oh? Where-you-eaded?" his English accent seemed to flow together in one sweep and I struggled to concentrate on what he was even saying instead of the tone in which he said it.

"No where," I answered too sharply and saw disappointment in his eyes. Is he really that lonely? Couldn't he just have books brought to him at his hotel rather than hide out in dark corners of stores hoping to go unnoticed?

"Would you like to get a cup of coffee with me?"

I shook my cup gently at him and smiled when he realized his error but sat down on the ground beside him nonetheless when he offered. I had no idea why I even sat down. I immediately wished I hadn't. Now we would have to talk, and I was sure I would regret that.

"So, why'd you run away from me the other day?" he cut right to the chase.

"I wasn't running from anything," I countered and then thought better of this, "I really can't stay. I was just headed out. Have a good day."

I hopped up despite his protests and bid him good day again before rushing off the floor, down an escalator and out the store, ignoring my aching bladder. I don't know if he followed me or not. I did not look back. I didn't want to see that injured look in his eyes from the parking lot. It was silly to feel sorry for someone like him. He's certainly got plenty of friends and more than enough things to occupy his time without harassing someone like me.

**/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/**

It was a rainy afternoon, the first week of November, the day before I started back on my rotation at work, and despite my protestations that cloudy weather does not get me 'down,' I was feeling a bit peakish. I had been in a funk all week, I acknowledged. Despite my daily trips to Borders, coffee shops, Anthropologie, and an occasional stop at my favorite pub, The Kings Head, I was still feeling 'out of it.'

I padded barefoot around my condo, cup of English Breakfast in hand, although it was three p.m., and let out a long sigh. I loved the way the charcoal grey stained concrete floors felt beneath my feet, even in the winter time. Jake followed me in my pacing, watching me pick up a book and put it back in frustration, listening to my sighs, his bright blue eyes seeking some sort of answer in my movements.

Plopping down on the sofa dramatically and grasping the remote, I surfed through the cable television channels in disappointment. Nothing was ever on! Jake laid at my feet, letting out a loud groaning complaint so I put my tea cup on the floor and stretched out on the couch, my arm hanging down to scratch his ears. He sighed complacently and closed his eyes. I lay there, listening to the rain falling, alone with my thoughts. _Alone period._

I could always have gone to see Alice today, I was always welcome on set if I felt like it, and it was easy for her to square away a pass. Unfortunately, I just didn't feel like getting out. I wasn't enjoying being 'in' either. It was days like this I kinda missed Emmett. The problem there had been we just weren't compatible _romantically_. Not that we didn't get along as friends.

Rosalie and Alice and I had been friends before. Strange as it sounds, we met online. I was in nursing school in my hometown of New Orleans, Louisiana still at the time. We had met from a Facebook group devoted to our...what? Obsession with a certain film series? _What a gripping life I led. _ I shuddered at the thought again. When I graduated, I moved out to Los Angeles, where my two close friends had landed roles on a television sitcom called _Strangers_. It had been their first real break into acting, aside from small roles here and there, and modeling gigs. _Because they are both more gorgeous than you could ever imagine from Facebook._ That was true. I had been stunned when I met them face to face.

Alice was a petite, sprite-like nymph with a ballerina background who bounced through life with such an enthusiasm, it was definitely contagious. Rosalie had been more successful with modeling, especially due to her height, but certainly not ignoring her being stunning. _She's a goddess among women._ The leggy, curvaceous blonde towered above both of us, especially since she practically always wore heels. I was well aware of the fact that if I had not known her before her hit TV show, there's no way in hell I would be friends with her.

When I moved to LA, Alice had just started regularly seeing Jasper Whitlock, an executive at Warner Brothers studio, which to my understanding was sort of a family job. Jasper's father had been a CEO, as had his grandfather. The Whitlock's apparently helped found the studios in some respect or another, and while Jasper certainly worked his adorable tail off, the job was probably a given. His stepbrother, Emmett McCarty, was an executive as well, but he had been in Europe a good bit doing over seas projects working in their foreign office.

When he moved back to take up the corner office down the hall from Jasper, pleasing both his mother and Jasper's father, it had been natural for us to meet. Rosalie was in a hot and heavy 'relationship' with a French heir and art collector and for a few months into Emmett's return, we didn't see her unless we happened to be onset while they taped _Strangers_. She spent all her time with Louis. And much of it in France.

It had all begun as just 'hanging out.' Jasper and Alice were literally inseparable. It was no surprise for them to announce their engagement only four months after beginning dating, and even less of a shocker that they eloped to Vegas one evening because they just didn't care about the wedding part. Emmett and I were their other 'pair.' We were always together. Jasper and Alice were yapping in both our ears constantly about how we were perfect for each other. I think happy people just want their best friends to be happy too. We should've left it at that.

I had loved Emmett. He was a great friend. Tall, and built like a Greek god, with one of the most agreeable personalities you will ever meet...well, it was easy to listen to my friend's advice. But loving someone does not equate being 'in love.' Caring about someone deeply does not mean you are attracted to them even on a slight level. I never felt turned on by Emmett. My heart rate would rise and my blood pressure would go up, but not because I wanted to jump him. Every time he would hold my hand, I had an instinct to pull it away. Whenever he would kiss me, despite him being an excellent kisser from what I could tell, I felt a stronger urge to run than to climb on top of him and rip his clothes off.

We weren't dating long when he proposed. I was astounded. We had no chemistry, aside from our great friendship. But in all honesty, I had never felt chemistry in my life, and I decided that perhaps this was all there was for someone like me. Close friendship, companionship, true emotion and safety.

And then a tabloid, _the blight of all mankind_, had caught pictures of Emmett leaving what looked like an intimate dinner with a well-known actress I was unacquainted with. I had stared at those pictures for hours, trying to decipher his posture, his hand on her hip as they stood outside the restaurant, and the intent of the hug between them. When I confronted him he nonchalantly told me he had to get his needs met somewhere. He saw no need for us to continue unless I was willing to go to counseling and figure out what was wrong with me that I didn't want to 'screw his brains out like a normal fiancé should.'

We had been engaged at that point for six months, had dated for six weeks, and had been friends for three months before that....and all of a sudden, I was faced with this ultimatum when he'd been the one who was cheating. I figured his plan had been to just keep on cheating, get married, and continue his extra-curricular activities. So I gave him his ring back and just chalked it up to me being an idiot. _And not worth his trouble. If you weren't so messed up emotionally, he wouldn't have been stepping out on you to begin with._

That had been six weeks ago. I had not seen Emmett since. I only went to Alice and Jasper's if I knew he wouldn't be there, I ignored his calls and emails, and shrugged when my friends told me he missed me. _Missed what?? _Maybe he missed the 'old' us. The friends that would play scrabble and fight over his made up words. The friends that used to go sailing, or for long drives up in the hills, or eat waves trying to surf. _That_ 'us' had been good. But it was also ruined now. And the sad part was, even though he was the one who come to find out had _repeated_ infidelities, I honestly didn't blame _him_. I knew that I was not what a girlfriend or fiancé was supposed to be. I knew that it was unfair to him.

I honestly did not see myself being in a relationship ever again. I was successful, confident in my work, happy with my small group of friends, and just didn't see a need for something that I had never had, therefore, never knew what I was missing. If I couldn't relax and be with someone who was one of my most trusted friends, who _would_ I ever feel like that with? I just did not see an 'us' of any kind when I looked at my future. I envisioned vomiting on the next person who tried to kiss me, which would certainly end things then and there.

**/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/**

It had been over a week and five hospital ER shifts since the initial horrible encounter, and my consequent fight with Alice. Well, it wasn't a fight. It was an argument. Well, I was the only one arguing. It was a one-sided act of aggression against the one person on this planet who loved me. _Okay, now you're just being melodramatic._

I stood at the doctor's bay in the nurse's station, clicking absent-mindedly on the computer screen, finishing up with my last patient's record. I looked at the clock on the wall, 22:45. Thank God, it was almost time to leave. It had been one of those nights, filled with MVA's, cardiac arrests, three gun-shot wounds, two stabbings, a fetal demise, four cases of heartburn that were mistaken for heart attacks, and six psychiatric consults. And I was getting off shift at 11 p.m. I could only imagine what was yet to come.

The ambulance bay doors shot open and the newest arrival rolled in, nursing staff and technicians joining the paramedic for report, beginning to hook the patient up to the cardiac monitor, EKG, oxygen, and prepping for an IV line. My attention swayed that way briefly, as I listened to the paramedic rattle off the patient's signs and symptoms, vital signs and allergies. I shook my head to clear it. I was done for today.

"Excuse me," a voice said from my left. It was a tortuous voice, soft and cautious. And I knew exactly whom it belonged to. _What the hell?_

"I'm just getting off shift, sir. I'm certain one of the other NP's or doctors will be right with you," I did not look away from the computer, despite knowing the eyes, which I could feel staring at me. It hurt for some reason. I could feel his gaze boring a hole into me. It burned. I felt my face flush and heard him snicker softly. _Damn my Irish bloodlines._

"I'm not waiting...I mean, as a patient," he laughed. It was a magical laugh. It held a secret. I did not want to know what the secret was.

"Okay, well—" _click, click, click...._

"It's Isabella, isn't it?" he had moved closer. My eyes shot away from the computer screen and that was when I saw he was 'disguised'.

"Well of all the—"I laughed shortly. He had his normal mix of casual, clean grunge mixed with 80's flair and hippy enthusiasm topped by a black leather bomber jacket...but the grey hooded sweatshirt underneath was raised up so the hood covered his trademark odd locks. He had crammed a black toque cap on top of that, as well as a fake stick on mustache and black RayBan sunglasses.

My lips pressed together to try to stifle another laugh and I looked around to see if anyone was watching him. Amazingly, and thanks to the recent ambulance arrivals, everyone was occupied elsewhere.

"Um," I bit my lip. He was enjoying my uncertainty immensely. "Someone from security is going to mistake you for the Unabomber." I motioned upward to the cameras.

"Better than the alternative," he laughed and motioned toward the exit.

"I have to finish here," I unfortunately clicked my last edit and the screen flashed that I was done and did I want to save. He chuckled.

"And now?"

"You can't read over my shoulder! Patient's charts are confidential!"

"Tell that to the press next time I have to have a sprained ankle set," he muttered under his breath and goofy mustache, but I pretended not to hear it.

"I have to go to my locker," I nodded for him to follow me. This was completely disorienting, and although I still had not admitted that I knew who he was, I knew that I could not leave him at the mercy of screaming fans in the form of patients and nurses that would come from nowhere if they penetrated his disguise. _Why did I have penetrating on my mind? This was unbelievable. He shows up in a goofy outfit and smelly mustache and I'm feeling...desire? No. Remember, he makes fun of you. THIRD grade._

I walked calmly past the nurse's station and down the hall to the physician's lounge. The facilities here were fairly new and we had benefited from an exemplary work area. As soon as we were in the lounge, I headed around the corner for my locker, and began stripping out of my lab coat and scrubs.

"Um," he was standing behind me frozen in place, looking a bit like a perverted version of a cartoon character or a has-been vaudevillian. He averted his eyes, slowly, and then cleared his throat.

"I thought you'd wait out there!" I exclaimed, pulling my scrub bottoms back up. Great, he'd seen size 6 thighs. The man who saw size 0's 24/7 in his line of work had just been flashed by my size 6 in skimpy black lace boy-short panties. _Please kill me. Please say something._

"What are you _doing_ here?" I finally asked. How did he know who I was? And why did that matter.

"I came to find you," he returned his face to my direction, keeping his eyes on my face only. I realized then that I'd removed my scrub top already and was standing there clad in scrub bottoms and a black lace brassiere.

"Why?" I flushed immediately. One arm came up my abdomen vertically, resting between my breasts and the other arm wrapped itself around, my hand clamping onto my shoulder. _That makes everything so much better now._

His eyes, as if involuntarily, fluttered downward to my cleavage. I honestly couldn't complain when it came to this area of my body. I'd always had a fairly nice rack. Size D. I'd thought any bigger might look disproportioned. Now, I wondered. His eyes raked over me, becoming hooded briefly and then returned to my face. His expression looked strange. I was frozen in place. I felt like a deer on the 101. I stood transfixed. What do you say to a famous person, dressed like a lunatic, staring at you half-naked with a look of...what? His eyes were flashing. Was he angry? _Of course, you dolt._ It's not every day that a damn screaming crazy takes her clothes off right in front of him, I guess. This must be extreme, even for him.

I flushed about ten different shades of purple and looked down at the ground, turning around to my locker and pulling my sweater out. I felt the tears coming to my eyes again and brushed one away with a little sigh, trying to keep my lower lip from jutting out like a child. God, I was tired.

_Please, let him be gone when I turn around and let him never come back!_

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**Like? Don't like? Wanna tell me to burn my computer? Do it! Silence is **_**so**_** not golden! xx**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. Sheesh. As if there's any confusion there.**

**Have fun reading...a few lemons in this chapter *sexy swagger inserted here* ...still holding out for the real full blown major watermelon size lemons to come.**

**My amazing goddess of a woman Beta is Danell.**

**Show me some love peoples!! You'll buy less time in Purgatory, I promise.**

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Chapter Three

Suddenly, I felt him behind me. Not his actual body, but his heat, and his eyes. I could feel his eyes boring a hole into the back of my head. I hung my stethoscope up in the locker and began to maneuver my delicate cream Gap sweater in my hands so I could pull it over my head. Then his breath was on my neck. Startled, I dropped the sweater, and as he crashed into me softly, I reached out to stop myself, grasping onto the locker sides. The cold metal dug into my hands, not cutting, but painfully reminding me of the predicament I was in. His hands were on my hips. _Damn 26" hips. _ Then, slowly, I felt them drag up my bare sides and over my bra silk. I shuddered. What they hell was going on here? I started to turn, but he stayed me. One hand went up to my shoulder, the other up to grasp my right wrist where it kept my hand clinging to the locker. His pelvis pushed flush behind me, his left foot and knee wedged behind mine. With his left hand, from my shoulder, he traced over from the right side of my neck to the left; flipping my long, thick tendrils over to my chest and out of his way.

"What are you doing?" I gasped. Barely able to form a complete sentence, my head felt foggy. _Am I having an absence seizure?_ His breath was now on my left shoulder and neck. He was practically panting. _Is HE having an absence seizure?_

And then, I felt a jolt of electricity. Something _electrocuted_ me in the exact spot his breath had been and began searing flames up and down my sternocleidomastoid muscle of my neck. 

_This is no time for medical terminology!_ I felt faint and my knees went weak. He chuckled and held me up. 

_He's laughing at you._

I spun around, using all my strength to break his hold and then he immediately had me again. I was furious. His eyes were amused, and twinkling, and...lustful? No, that's called disgust. _Apparently, he's desperate and chose you to toy with._

"Look, Mr. Cullen," I blundered, immediately wishing I wasn't so flustered.

"Ah ha!" His eyes glistened, overflowing with mischief. "You DO know who I am!" _You're a retard in a monkey suit. HOT retard in a monkey suit._

"Do I get a cookie??? A prize??" I spit out angrily, aware that I sounded extremely lame. Suddenly, his stance changed and he was pressed even closer to me. My breasts heaved and I felt my limbs getting shaky again as he leaned over and placed another kiss, this time on my clavicle, softly to my skin. I shuddered uncontrollably. What was _wrong_ with me? I felt dizzy, my head slammed back into the neighboring locker with a crash, but I didn't even feel it. His lips continued their travail across my upper chest, and then he turned his head and began feathering soft kisses up my neck. Barely a whisper of pressure, and yet I felt like I was being murdered.

_"But what a way to go!" my mind yelled and did a handstand enthusiastically._

His hands were no longer restraining me. His body was flush up against mine, both palms had moved to my shoulders for balance and my arms bent up wards, my hands lightly holding his elbows. I couldn't remember where I was or what I was supposed to be doing. All I was aware of was his mouth on my jaw, nibbling its way slowly to my ear and back towards my chin. 

_Must remember my name, his name...pull his hair? What? _

With no further warning, _I needed MORE of a warning?,_ his mouth was on mine. Only for an instant was it the gentle torture that had been ceremoniously covering my chest and shoulders, neck and jaw. Suddenly, his mouth became that of a starving man, hungry for whatever it could devour. My lips burned and ached as his moved over mine, furtively plying and requesting admittance. Unaware of myself, my lips opened and he plunged his tongue inside. When my tongue met his and the burning continued, he pulled it toward him with his lips. I felt as though I might lose it, but couldn't remember what 'it' was. I didn't know where this was leading, I couldn't feel enough rationally to care.

My arms shot up and around his neck, elbows resting on his shoulders and arms twisting around to entwine my hands in his....damn that hat and sweatshirt hood. I pulled desperately, throwing the toque to the ground and pulling the hood backwards until...my hands found their goal. He leaned into me and pulled me further into him, my legs instinctively rising and wrapping around his waist as he ground me into the lockers. My meager layer of scrub pants allowed full feeling of his...desire? I needed to find reality again, but didn't even know where to look.

"Isabella," he moaned into my mouth, his hands sweeping around behind my back at my bra clasp. _There. There it was. Reality is a bitch._

"Stop," I groaned, trying to pull my mouth away but not making much of an effort. "Stop." I pulled his hair backwards, breaking the spell when his mouth released mine. I pushed against his chest and clambered down off his torso. His eyes sought mine out incredulously, but I was too humiliated to look at him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely, moving out of my way as I grasped for my sweater and missed. He leaned over and picked it up, handing it to me gingerly. He didn't even try to avert his eyes this time.

I spun around, putting my back to him once more and tore my sweater over my head before anything else delayed me. As I reached for my jeans and pulled on the tie-string of my scrubs to release them, he turned around as if sensing my embarrassment. I wrapped my scarf around my neck, put on my coat, and chucks, grabbed up the dirty scrubs and tossed them at the chute before he turned around again with questions in his eyes.

"What did you come here for?" I asked him again.

"To see you."

"That's not good enough. Why? You lose a bet?" I was being mean, but I didn't care.

"What does that mean?" he answered in aggravation. I had not even noticed he still had the ridiculous mustache on until now. Even when he'd kissed me. _How odd. Stay focused! You're angry!_

"Does that not _translate_ across the pond? Some of your limey friends heard about the other night, my _obvious_ humiliation and dared you to come back for more? Or did you lose at cards?" I reached into my locker and grabbed my leather bag.

"Not a bit of it," Edward spat angrily. "My _limey friends_, as you so politically correctly put it are still _across the pond_ and don't know anything about my meeting you the other night. There was something about you, at the market..." There was something in his eyes, something he wasn't telling me.

"I don't know if it was the banana fiasco, or the way you were terrified of me speaking to you...." he broke off, struggling to find what to say.

"Either way, I had to see you again!" he ended emphatically, his fake mustache jiggling now after all the intensity we had put it through moments before. I suppressed a smile. I knew that would only encourage him.

"Well, I don't remember telling you my name or where I worked."

"No, you're correct, you didn't," he nodded, wide eyed, still appearing sketchy. "So, I manipulated a few... things... and found out." When he saw my shocked expression, he continued, "You told me about the accident, I knew there must be something in the news or papers for you to be running from shadows...and you're right, they've been harassing you quite a bit, poor thing."

"Are you mocking me?"

"Not at all! I know what it feels like! Hence the stupid disguise!" he motioned at himself, almost making me lose my composure. "I can't even track down a girl I fancy and show up at her work without worrying about it being on the news!"

He stopped short. He hadn't meant to say that much. I saw a sudden vulnerability in his eyes. I tried to believe him, but I didn't trust men, I didn't trust myself, and I certainly didn't trust celebrities. Although, two of my best friends were celebrities. And my ex-fiancé sort of ran in that crowd as well. _Oh, that is a glowing recommendation for whom to trust._

"I have to go. I'm late for dinner," I muttered and began to brush past him, picking up his cap and handing it to him in embarrassment. I heard someone enter the doctor's lounge door and flashed my eyes to his in panic. I pulled his hood up over his head as he crammed the toque cap down on top of it. I straightened and pressed his moustache to affix it, aware that his eyes were burning into me again as our skin made contact.

"Hey, Bella!" Mike Newton, one of the ER doctors, strode in casually and over to his locker. Obviously about to change and leave for the night, he cast a look at me and then slowly eyed my strangely clad friend.

"Hi, Mike," I nodded, turning my clownish companion toward the door. "Bye, then, have a good night," I called to my coworker.

"You going out? I was thinking of going to have a drink," Mike answered, turning back to his locker.

"I have plans," I answered, having been stopped at the door and feeling a pair of eyes searing into me.

"Oh, really? What kind? Maybe I could tag along," Mike had accompanied me around before with various groups of people, so I don't know why it felt so odd for him to invite himself now.

"Oh, well," I hemmed. I didn't know what to say. I really did have plans, and it shouldn't matter if Mike came along since it was an odd number outing anyway. I was of course, probably to be the only single person there.

"Actually," the man in the silly moustache called out, "_We_ have plans, mate."

I almost fell flat out on the ground. What did he think he was doing? It was going to be hard enough to explain his existence at all in this get up, much less once it moved around the ER circuit that we had a date or something.

"Oh, alright then," Mike looked a little disappointed, which surprised me. He'd never shown a particular interest in me before, not romantically at least.

"And you are?" Mike strode over and stuck out his hand.

"Oh!" I jumped, "Please, forgive me. Um, Mike, um...this is...uh..." I could feel my face getting red.

"Rand," Mr. Moustache stuck his hand into the doctor's, shaking it firmly, "Randle McMurphy." I sucked in a gasp of air sharply.

"McMurphy?" Mike continued shaking his hand, only barely glancing at the moustache, sunglasses and strange attire. "That sounds familiar. You have family around here?"

"No, no, I'm from London," came the clipped reply.

"Okay, then, well it's nice to meet you," Mike answered and moved back to his locker, throwing a "have fun" over his shoulder.

I let "Mr. McMurphy" lead me from the lounge and back down the hall of the ER. We said our goodbyes as we went, to all the amused and confused who tried to stop us, heading out the ambulance bay doors in the direction of, I assume, his car. He had a hold of my hand, not in the inter-twined finger fashion preferred by high schoolers the world over, but the "clasp and pull" you method. I let myself be pulled. I was stunned. I didn't know what to say. I was in shock.

I could hear him prattling on about it being an alias that he used occasionally from a Jack Nicholson film. I vaguely heard him saying something about the name of the movie; that or he was calling me cuckoo. He put me in the passenger seat and shut the door, striding around to the driver's side and getting in, shutting the door, encasing us in the small confined space together. It smelled of new leather. Everything was black, and he hadn't put the keys in the ignition, so somehow the darkness seemed menacing. What the hell was he talking about? He just kept gabbing until he realized I was not responding. I was just sitting there. Dead. Then he stopped and looked at me and he knew what I was obsessing over. His eyes suddenly looked full of...something...fear? 

_No, I couldn't be right. It was a coincidence. A horrible coincidence. My imagination was run amuck._

"Isabella," he began. _Oh, God. His tone. His eyes. _

"...Bella," I choked out. _What name you'd rather be called is important right now, why?_

"Bella, please. Hear me out," he tried again. _It was not my imagination!_

"Bella, say something," his hand shot across and grabbed my arm, snapping me out of my insanity.

"It...um..." I shook my head as though to dislodge the cobwebs and mothballs. "It _was_ you."

He knew exactly what I meant, confirming my suspicions before he answered. He lowered his eyes a moment and then returned them to mine. He grasped my coat-covered arm again, kneading it, as though trying to get down to skin.

"Yes....wait, let me explain!" he begged as I reached for the door handle.

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I had not waited around to hear anything else. I was more horrified than I was angry. Oh, yes, I was angry, too. But the most prevalent emotion racing through my body seemed to be abject humiliation. The thought that this man, this actor, whom we had all teased and talked about. Flirted with and cajoled; he was actually him. _This is making sense to you?_ My head was spinning. _There are people starving in the Sudan woman, get some perspective._

Thank God, he let me exit his car. His protests resounded in my ears, but he had let me go. I shook violently as I put the keys into the ignition of my Rover and cranked it, the motor humming to life like a purr. I sped out of the parking lot, not looking behind me to see where he'd gone. I didn't care. I wanted to crawl under a rock and never resurface. I had worked hard to get where I was. I was an intelligent and not horrible looking woman, who was respected in her community and workplace. Who, until the recent fiasco had managed to keep a clean record and fly under the radar. I was the woman that men admired and respected; not the one they lusted after and got frisky with. Hell, my own fiancé... _oh never mind, that will just depress you more._

I needed some time to think this over in my brain, to mull and re-mull so to speak. How on earth could this be happening? This was the stuff of bad fiction, not my life. My life was amazingly normal considering my past. _Amazingly boring._

Of course, it took me a record-breaking ten minutes to get to the restaurant where Alice and Jasper were waiting with friends. They had all had their dinner already, which was fine because I planned on drinking mine anyway. I guess I was slightly under-dressed, but I shrugged it off as I sat myself down in the empty seat next to Alice. I had forgot to check the vanity mirror in my car, my make-up surely needed reapplying and my hair was certainly in disarray. Especially after I'd nearly had sex in the lounge. I felt my face growing hot and wondered if I should make a mad dash for the ladies' room.

"What's going on with you?" she cast a worried glance at me, trying to smile to all the people who were greeting me. Most of these were industry people, Warner Bros, specifically. Colleagues of Jazz and Em, and other actors who worked with Rose and Alice. I looked around, thinking for the millionth time I wouldn't be around this sort of lot if I hadn't already been friends with them before their fame. And I thanked whatever God there was that Emmett was not here.

"Oh my God, you _finally_ arrived, you _whore_!" Rosalie Hale exclaimed as she returned from the bathroom.

Rosalie _was_ my other best friend, although not quite as close as Alice and I. She was a lead on Strangers as well, and was taking her usual stroll through the restaurant to make sure she was seen 'out and about', as she called it. She was unmarried, but played the field avidly. _Hell, her field was downtrodden there'd been so much action on it. _Her date for tonight looked familiar, he was probably an actor. He watched her attentively, and barely glanced at my face to register that she was speaking to me. He was beautiful, of course.

"God, you look awful!" Rosalie announced as she plopped down in the seat next to me, her face scrutinizing my worry lines. I could just imagine the speech I would receive about my body being a temple and how I wasn't worshiping the goddess, obviously. _ My goddess was dead and buried._

"Thanks, Rose" I rolled my eyes at her as she kissed each of my cheeks enthusiastically, making a kiss noise myself, and turned back to Alice. "I did just get off working a twelve-hour shift, you know." _Thirteen really. Saving lives. Now you'll want a medal._

"What happened to you? You were supposed to be here at eleven," Ali pointed to her cell phone to indicate it was almost midnight.

"I got...detained," I enunciated with a pronounced look in my eyes. _Please, Ali, get the hint and let's discuss it later._

"No! You don't mean?" she began—

"Edward Cullen!" Rosalie exclaimed, as though she could read my thoughts, then every head tore around to look in the direction of the doorway to the restaurant.

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**Please lovies, toss me some feedback! It might be good for some hot snoggin'...just sayin'. :o)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing Twilight...once again...probably won't change.**

**In case no one's figured it out yet, not only is this story extremely OOC, it's also AU and AH. Was originally intended to be more of a RP based fanfic but I was advised by a very wise voo-doo woman from the Quarter that to get people to read it, I needed it to be Twilight. Hence, the characters. Oh, 'Quarter' is New Orleanian for "French Quarter." If you ever come here, go there.**

**Once again, my lovely, sexy mistress of all things Beta is Danell.**

**And yet again, please please please drop me some lines. Feedback is like water on the parched fields...somewhere I've never been...like a farm...in Oklahoma.**

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Chapter Four

I didn't look. I kept my eyes on Alice, who had unceremoniously dropped open her mouth and was gaping at me.

"You brought Edward Cullen with you?" she asked incredulously in a muttered tone.

"I didn't _bring_ him." I spit out under my breath bitterly, "He must've followed me."

"Oh my God, he is _sex_ on a stick," Rosalie oozed, adjusting her boobs through her top and fluffing her hair, oblivious to mine and Alice's dialogue. She didn't even notice hot-what's-his-name's barely veiled hostility as he watched her watch the uber-man-of-the-moment still standing at the front hostess stand.

"Who is he here with?" she gushed dramatically, her eyes darting around to see if one of the actresses he was always linked with accompanied him. I perked up at the thought, hoping it was a coincidence, and some starlet would appear at his side, despite the fact that he had just been sucking my face. I hoped he turned out to be a complete lout. _Sure you do._

I kept my eyes on my lap. Something of utmost importance was suddenly there, and I studied my hands as though the secrets to the universe would appear. I should have driven around for a while. I still hadn't wrapped my brain around my momentary lapse in judgment from the lounge. _Momentary loss of sanity._ My heart was still racing, although if it was from the intense physical encounter or the bombshell he dropped on me, I couldn't decide.

Rosalie was craning her head around, the other people at our table were all chattering as well about the hot young commodity, and Alice was burning holes into the side of my head as I avoided her face.

"What have you done?" she grinned, eyeing me wickedly; as usual, somehow able to see what other people would not notice. Her eyes panned over my face and she withdrew a pink lipslicks from her purse and handed it to me. I rolled my eyes but took the gloss and smeared it on my lips petulantly. Rose could not let this exchange go unnoticed for long.

"What does she mean, Bella?" my other friend chimed in, checking out one of her perfectly sculptured nails, obvious that she didn't believe it could possibly be _too _exciting. "What is going on?" She lowered her voice conspiratoriously, as if she sensed a state secret about to be disclosed. _I_ sensed a teensy bit of _shit _in her tone.

"Nothing," I muttered, giving Alice a shut-up-now look and turning to glance around Jasper, who was amazingly ignoring this whole ordeal in favor of something fascinating on his blackberry.

Edward was standing at the door of the restaurant, head craning around, obviously looking for someone. I shuddered and slouched down in my chair. He was having a discussion with the hostess, _if _he was looking for me, not knowing whose name to give since the table was certainly not in mine. _I _was not even sure whose name the table was in. I had walked in and spotted Alice and Jasper, not to mention it was at the same table they usually claimed when going out with their work crowd.

Edward had changed out of his costume from earlier, simply opting for the black leather bomber jacket over his hoodie. I think he'd removed a few layers of shirts or something because he looked less bulky. His black straight-leg jeans pooled slightly at the top of the black Adidas samba trainers he wore. His hair was a perfect disarray since he'd removed the cap. He did look like sex personified.

As I stared for what seemed like hours, trying to keep my face and expression hidden, I felt my pulse speed up and my face color deepen. It was as though I were entranced, bewitched somehow, and I felt slightly stalkerish as my eyes raked over his lean frame once more. Suddenly, recognition flooded Edward's face, and he pointed discreetly. I had leaned too far around Jasper in my gawking. The hostess led him in our direction. I was going to die in ten seconds.

"Oh sweet Jesus, he's headed this way," Rosalie gushed. "Do you think he's seen us on TV, Ali?"

"I think he's got a different object in mind," Alice answered cryptically and winked at me. I rolled my eyes.

"This gentleman," the hostess said in complete shock, about to hyperventilate and trying to remain professional all at once, "Says that he is with you."

"Us?" Rosalie cooed. "Well, isn't that lovely?"

"No," the hostess intoned. "You," she actually _pointed_ at me. _I guess pretending I had never laid eyes on him was out. __Is it too late to crawl under the table undetected?_

"What the—" Rosalie began.

"Thank you," Edward smoothly told the hostess, slipping her a bill of some kind and nodding. _Take that all you damn tabloids talking about how cheap he is. Wait, why are you defending him? It could've been a one dollar bill for all you know._

"I need to talk you," he turned to me, his soft as velvet English accent permeating the air like liquid sex.

The entire area was silent. I say area because it wasn't just our table. The entire wing of the restaurant was completely devoid of noise. There was nothing... except for the horrifically loud hammering of my _about to arrest _heart. This was outrageous. I needed time to think. That wouldn't happen until I got home tonight. How was I supposed to know what to say right now? I couldn't even look up.

"Is he talking to YOU?" Rosalie was dumfounded. I knew she loved me, to some degree; but the idea of this infamously seductive star actually knowing me, much less following me to a restaurant and causing a scene, was beyond her.

"Not right now," I spit out, in fact, to both of them. I received equally surprised looks as I glanced between Rose and Edward.

"Okay, then I'll just say this here," he began, not even glancing around for a chair. He was willing to stand and have people stare while he went into a story I wanted no one to know about. He looked serious, but the twinkle in his eye told me he thought I was silly and he was calling my bluff. I thought I smelled whiskey on him as well. _Liquid courage. Sounds good right about now._ To his credit, he lowered his voice to barely above a whisper. "I wanted to tell you, I _started_ to tell you—"

"Holy God," I stood up, meeting his gaze directly for the first time, looking around to see everyone salivating over the exchange. A few people were on cell phones, some even using their camera to take a picture of him. I jumped slightly at the flashbulbs. Alice, ever my friend, stood up calmly and positioned herself slightly between us. Rosalie stood then, too.

"Please, Edward?" Ali looked at him questioning. "This is not the place, right?" She motioned around at all the people gaping. Rosalie nodded as if she knew what was going on. I sighed.

"So I tried to talk to you before we got here," he explained to me.

"_We_ weren't invited here," I accused in a whisper. "These are _my_ friends," I motioned. _Well, some of them could care less if I lived or died, but that's beside the point. _The table, almost simultaneously, nodded in agreement despite the fact that surely there were some who didn't even know my name.

"Well, you were in my car before you found out," he countered.

"Good grief, found out what?" Rosalie was about to faint from excitement.

"Nothing," I looked at him purposefully. "That is a discussion for later, Rosalie. Alice," I said with heavy meaning.

"Okay then, let's all just relax and have a good time," Ali smiled and motioned for us all to sit down again.

I sat, as did Rosalie and Alice, and Edward pulled a chair from another table and squished his up next to mine. I was dreadfully aware of all the eyes watching, the tongues wagging, despite the fact that the people at my table at least tried to act normal. I tried introducing Edward to everyone, not like they didn't know who he was, but I felt it was only polite to rattle off a slew of names he'd never likely remember later.

The waitress returned to the table, _Thank God Almighty!_, and I seriously considered throwing a fork at her head as she slowly made her way around the table getting drink refill orders and scribbling them on a notepad. I could feel Edward's eyes on me, even though he was politely turning to and fro to answer questions and make replies to the light conversation now floating around the table. The slow-as-molasses-in-January waitress was very nearly to us and I resisted the urge to shout out my order.

"You still prefer vodka and cranberry?" Edward shocked me by asking. I turned to him and bit the sides of my cheeks to keep my mouth from dropping open. I nodded, my eyes wide. Not for the first time I was relieved that it was fairly dark in this room.

"She'll have a Stoli and cranberry with lime..with lime?" he glanced at my nodding head and turned back to the waitress who looked like she might fall out in the floor.

"A double," I finally found my voice.

"A double," he repeated to the girl, " And I'll have a double...you have Glenfiddich? Alright, let me have that."

"Um, yes sir," the girls stammered and scribbled, " A double Glenfiddich...and what?"

"Nothing," he smiled. "Rocks. No mixer, thanks."

The girl walked away with a befuddled expression after flashing him her best smile. He smiled kindly at her and then promptly turned away, scooting his chair into the table further causing his right knee to touch mine. My knee reflexively jumped as a zap of electricity shocked me, and I looked at him in surprise. He was answering some question about what projects he was working on now, but his right hand underneath the table reached over and steadied my knee as it began to bounce up and down. _Oh, yes, touch me underneath the table. That's helpful._

I looked around, wondering why nobody seemed to hear my heart pounding out of my chest. Everyone was chatting calmly and doing a pretty good job of not staring at Edward, which I definitely sympathized with the effort that must take. For the men and women alike. I slouched forward, resting my elbows on my legs to where my hands jutted forward and brushed his. That had been a mistake. I just didn't know what to do with them. On top of the table I had been inclined to pat out some sort of weird beat. Just like my knee had the urge to bounce repeatedly in nervousness until he grasped it. Now it felt like jelly.

His hand raked upward off my knee and easily enveloped my fist-clasped hands, his thumb immediately rubbing small circles over my knuckles. I stared down at the table top, my face a mere few inches from it anyway. Aside from the fact I thought I might die in a second, I had a strong desire to lower it the rest of the distance and take a nap. I couldn't remember being this tired since nursing school.

Our drinks arrived ten thousand rapid heartbeats later and I struggled to not growl at the girl when she delivered mine. I grasped it quickly, after pulling my left hand from Edwards clutch, and gulped down half of the pint glass, smiling when I realized it was a very strong drink. _Good. Maybe I'll pass out and consciously avoid the rest of this night. _ Edward chuckled, telling the waitress we'd take one more round while handing her his credit card and practically downing his double whiskey.

"Bloody annoying not to have a fag," he muttered to me, his right hand still under the table, holding onto my right hand. We must've looked like we had the worst posture in history, slouched down to the table the way we were.

"The patio," I mumbled, sipping back more of my drink and already hearing a slurping sound as the liquid became outnumbered by ice.

"Mmm?" Edward's eyes were hazy, I couldn't tell if it was result of alcohol or if he was as tired as I.

"You can smoke on the patio," I explained, pulling my hand out of his and reaching up the flip my hair. It was a nervous habit. That and tapping my foot, bouncing my knee, picking my cuticles, biting my thumb and tapping on things._ Yeah. You're most definitely normal._

"Come on, then," he stood and nodded for me to as well. I looked at him confused; not wanting to say I'd meant he could go smoke and I could think, or escape out the front door. He looked down at me and wiggled his eyebrows.

I turned to my right intending to tap Alice on the shoulder. She and Rose had become so absolutely engrossed in conversations with other people, and yet I had the distinct impression that they both were trying to pay attention to what was going on with me. Alice turned to me before I'd even actually touched her. _Spooky Smurf. _

A flash went off again and I stood up.

"I'm sorry, Alice. I can't do this right now." It was too much. Right on the heels of my 'last scandal'. _I feel like Lindsey Lohan._

"It's okay, Bella," Alice stood and hugged me, whispering something about calling later. I nodded, and took the opportunity to whisper one word in her ear. I knew she'd understand immediately. "_McMurphy_." She looked shocked, but recovered and hid her surprise before releasing me. I hugged Rosalie and said my goodbyes to the rest of the people I didn't really know.

"Patio?" I asked Edward languidly and led the way when he nodded. I could feel everyone's eyes on us, but his were boring a hole into the back of my head and felt distinctly different. I knew we needed to talk, but a public place did not seem like a proper venue.

Edward told the waitress as we passed by that we needed our drinks on the patio and signed the receipt she held out. She gushed something about loving him and that our drinks were ready and all she had to do was grab them off the bar and she'd be right out. He smiled and told her we'd collect them ourselves and to have a _lovely _evening. I continued to the patio and let him get the drinks.

He immediately chose a table on the inside, remote back edge of the patio and placed the drinks while letting me choose where to sit. I felt like we were too alone all ready and could feel what little clarity I had etching away. Edward sat and offered me a smoke before lighting one up himself when I declined. I didn't smoke anymore, although the idea was definitely tempting right now.

We sat pretty much in silence, finishing our drinks, letting him smoke and making occasional small talk. It felt as though an elephant were sitting in the middle of the patio table though. His eyes grew more hooded and his hand continually reached across the small gap between us to grasp my leg from his slouched position. I tried to avoid direct eye contact with those gray-blue eyes; I didn't understand the way my stomach flipped when he looked at me so intently. I didn't like the way it made me feel. Out of control and vulnerable.

"Fuck me, someone must've phoned the bastards," Edward suddenly muttered, putting his cigarette out in the ashtray, and inching his chair away from me.

"Who?" I looked in the direction he nodded and saw a small group of denim and baseball cap clad men who were inching around the side of the patio railing. That was when the flashbulbs began going off and they began calling out to the star whose former spirits suddenly seemed to dissipate.

"Oh, Christ," I stood and began backing away to the back corner, knowing there were steps there leading down to the street. "I can't..."

I actually looked over purposefully in Edward's direction. He had stood, of course, when I retreated, which only excited the photographers more.

"Edward!" one of them called out again, "Is this your new girlfriend?"

"Hey, sweetheart, what's your name?" another called as they made their way around the patio and met up with us on the street.

"That's Isabella Swan," another one called and I heard him explain to the group that he'd snapped pictures of me after the incident with the mayor. In a mere fifteen seconds who I was and my role in the filthy story were laid out for the other men's amusement.

"What are you two doing together?" they wanted to know, as if it were their business.

_Impertinent bastards._

We headed around the corner, walking briskly, the cool air whipping around us. I zipped up my hoodie and noticed that Edward had raised his, blocking much of the view of his face. He looked at me, taking hold of my arms from behind me and moving my body to the inside of the sidewalk as we trudged on, ignoring their insistent questions. This put me somewhat out of their range of vision, unless they wanted pictures of my butt walking away from them. _Lovely._

"Put up your hood," he whispered, "Then they can't get as clear a shot." I immediately obeyed, despite the fact that they'd now rushed around in front of us and were walking backwards so they could get pictures of our onward trek.

"Look down," Edward muttered, "They can't see your face as clear, plus you're less likely to trip and fall on camera," he laughed as though this had happened to him before.

The flashes were relentless. Even without them it would be an annoying and irksome way to try and walk down a sidewalk, but the constant bright lights bouncing off of the dark sky made it impossible for my eyes to adjust and I knew any moment I was going to start staggering into anything that might be in my path. A few drinks in my system didn't help.

We finally reached the parking garage, ducking to the left inside Edward asked me to stand still and turned around to meet the oncoming paparazzi. He briefly explained we were old friends, just having a bite to eat and for them to take his picture but please leave Miss Swan alone. I cringed. They seemed to take what he said pretty well, especially since they already had plenty shots of me and I blinked from the onslaught of flashes that barraged him while he stood there trying to be pleasant. They thanked him several times and he returned.

"Okay," he smiled, joining me where I had planted myself against the garage concrete wall, trying to keep out of range of the paparazzi. He leaned in and traced his finger along my clavicle bone through my sweater. I shuddered, making him grin.

"Now what?" he asked meaningfully.

"Your hotel," I answered, trying not to look guilty when I said it. I didn't believe they'd quit following us and I did not want them outside my place again.

"Brilliant," he cooed. I doubt he understood my reasoning though.

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**Okay, not super long, but I have the next chapter written so am doing a few final after editing tweeking...hopefully nothing so horrid that it gets sent back to Danell. You see the problem here? Agh...being a perfectionist bites. You're lucky I can ever bring myself to post at all....or I'm lucky, not you...someone's lucky...which I'd love to hear about too. **

**Gimme some luvin? xx  
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	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Twilight is not my shit. This crazy idea, from all the crazy happenings online, is my shit. Thought it would be like a 'who dunit'...but in reverse....ermmmm, that's 'dunit who'...confused yet? Alright then, read on.**

**As usual...my uberawesomefab Beta is the great Danell.**

**And please feel free to leave feedback, or messages, or something. Like it, hate it, could care less one way or another? I wanna hear it all! **

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Chapter Five

"Get comfortable, I'll be right back," Edward asserted, pointing toward the humongous couch in the sitting room of his hotel suite.

"Nice kitchen," I ignored him and looked around. "Odd for a hotel to have a full size kitchen, isn't it?"

"Well, I think it's the kind of place that mainly a person like me rents," he called from the bedroom before returning and pulling the door shut, fresh pack of smokes in hand. "I stay for a lot longer than an average hotel guest at one time, and I usually pick the same place to stay every time I'm in town...so a kitchen just makes it easier...I mean, not that I cook or anything..."

He was rambling. Why was HE nervous? Surely this wasn't that unusual for him. Picking up fan-girls must be par for the course by this time. _I am not a fan-girl!_ I sighed.

"What?" he looked at me meaningfully. I had moseyed over to the wet-bar and had my hands spread out on the top. I liked the way the cool marble felt beneath my hands. He came up behind me and sensing danger, I turned around to meet his eyes. I hoped I stood a better chance of keeping my resolve if I was looking at him. His eyes were thick with...whatever they were thick with in the doctor's lounge earlier tonight. My breath caught in my chest and I wondered if I were turning blue.

"What's the matter? I really thought you would be delighted, Bella" he whispered my name, moving in closer, his voice husky.

"Delighted?!" I couldn't believe the audacity of this joker. I moved away and gave him my best don't-you-dare-move-a-muscle look. He really was used to girls just following him anywhere, for anything.

"I don't know exactly what you normally bring random girls up here for, but _that_ is not why I'm here," I said angrily.

"Then why did you use that tone? If you really don't know what I bring them up here for?" he chuckled. _Why was everything so funny to him?_

"Okay, I _do_ know what you bring them up here for then," I rambled, putting a hand up to stop him when he looked about to speak.

"Either way," I shrugged, "I'm not up here for that."

"Well, I didn't bring you up here for _that_," Edward nodded at me as if _that_ were hanging on the outside of my sweater. I flushed.

"Oh," I felt like an idiot. Just because he'd kissed me earlier I assumed he wanted to sleep with me...or not sleep...to....I prayed for the fifteenth time since entering his hotel room that I could just sink into the floor and disappear. My eyes detected patterns in the carpet and I studied them meticulously. I could feel him studying me as keenly.

"Please," his indignant tone made me look up briefly, "I'm not saying I wouldn't _love_ to do _that_. But I realize—" my scowling look of utter disbelief stopped him.

"Why are you looking at me that way?" when I met his eyes I could see he really didn't know. He genuinely looked at me as if I was an eighth wonder of the world. An anomaly. I felt the familiar heat returning to my face and neck and wished for the millionth time in my existence that I were black.

"Oh," he said softly. His voice full of recognition.

"I get it." He nodded as though a light bulb had just gone off in his brain and he knew my every thought.

"You get what?" I looked up and then away. The decor was worthy of at least a glance.

"You don't see why someone like me would _want_ someone like you."

I looked up shocked. I couldn't believe he just said that. It was exactly what I was thinking, but to hear it put into words...and by _him_ no less. I felt my stomach literally fall out of my insides and plummet to the ground. He didn't seem to notice and I looked down, surprised not to see blood and guts everywhere. _You are really losing it, you know._

"Alright," he waved it aside. "We'll discuss that later. Let's get the baggage over with first."

He motioned to the couch and went to sit down himself, waiting of course, until I did. I slowly made my way over, trying to figure out where my stomach went, if not on the floor, and sat almost as far away from where he stood as I could. Of course, he moved toward me and sat down a few inches away. I looked at my hands a few minutes while he looked at me. _Why doesn't he say something?_

"You are going to look at me sometime tonight, aren't you?" he teased, but only half kidding. I looked up into his eyes, which were a piercing blue. My green ones felt like second skimmings and froze from his gaze.

"Okay, so explain yourself then," I tried to hold my position. Tried to be strong. But damn it was hard to think with him staring at me so intently.

"Where do you want me to begin?"

"How about with where you shut down your Facebook account and didn't tell anyone you were leaving!" as soon as I spoke them, I knew the words were the most ridiculous I had ever uttered. I sounded a little more frantic than I meant to. The old feelings of frustration and inadequacy were coming back now.

"I didn't shut it down; I was shut down," Edward nodded, "by Facebook. As a fake account," he snorted slightly at this.

"Okay," I nodded for him to continue.

"And I sent you a friend request as soon as I realized it had happened. I wasn't on there all the time so it took me a week or two to notice," he explained matter-of-factly.

"And when you realized, then what?"

"Well, like I said, I sent you a friend request, under a different name. I put a note on it. But you never accepted it." His eyes showed he wondered why.

"I didn't know it was you. I remember getting a random request, and it was during that time when the girls and I were getting all these random adds. I just ignored them all." I looked down at my hands. I suddenly felt really stupid for being aggravated with him.

"Look, I understand that! I wish I'd been smart. I wish I'd written down email addresses or something. And I can't say I searched the globe looking for you, of course. It was an incredibly busy time in my life and I got caught up in...work." He looked sheepish.

"Well, everyone was hurt by you leaving. It's silly, but we all really believed you were genuine." I realized what I was saying, "I mean, I guess you were genuine. I... don't know what I'm trying to say."

"Well, I assumed you just didn't want to be my friend anymore, or... online friend anymore... and I just tried to let it go. But I kept thinking of all the great conversations we had. It was during a time when I couldn't really talk about _normal_ things with other people. Hell, I still can't with most people. You and I always talked about normal things. You were the only person who never asked me crap about the films."

"So..." I was struggling now for things to ask. I didn't know what the purpose here was anymore. "What about last week?"

"What about last week?" he shook his head, confused, edging closer to me.

"Why did you pretend..."

"Well, I really did have this thing I was supposed to make. An appetizer or I could bring afters or something and I thought it would be better to make it myself than have it catered. Because I _never_ cook, so it would be fun...and terrifically awful probably. A mate was having a get together and we were all supposed to bring something. So, my initial reason for going to the market was true...."

I looked at him skeptically. It wasn't that I thought he was actually lying. This just seemed too strange to be true. _Truth is stranger than fiction. Shut up._

"And when I saw you, well, despite the banana deal," he laughed. "I recognized you right away. And I remembered you were a nurse, and that you had said you would probably wind up back in Los Angeles."

"Okay," I sighed. I guess there was a good explanation for everything. It didn't make it any less freaky. Or plausible. No one would believe this yarn. _Not that I ever intended to tell anyone._

I stood to leave. I had found out what I came for. I needed to get as far away from him and the publicity as I could. He stood as well.

"Why are you leaving?" he looked surprised.

"I came here to talk. We talked."

"Can I pour you a drink?" Edward motioned to the wet-bar. I shook my head.

"Can't you just stay? We can... catch up? There's so much more to talk about. Now that the past is settled. I meant it when I said I wanted..." he ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"What? What do you want?" I was scared of the answer but I couldn't help but ask. _What could someone like him possibly want with someone like you? _It was unbelievable enough that we'd actually been Facebook friends, but to start up a real life friendship with someone... famous... who you met on Facebook? Utterly unbelievable.

"I fancy you," he reached out and took my wrist in his hand, his long fingers wrapping around it and leaving room. His eyelids fluttered slightly at the same moment I felt that zing of electricity from his touch. _Right. He gets zapped every time he touches you. Delusional._ He tightened his grip and pulled my arm up and toward him, pulling my body with it until we were chest to chest, with my arm in between.

That crazy feeling where my stomach falls out happened again and I tried to pull away, noticing that hazy look his eyes were taking on. I felt my breathing labor and heard his getting ragged as his breath warmed the side of my face where I had turned away.

"I'm not that girl anymore," I whispered.

"What girl?" he was practically gasping as he continued his trail down my neck, not making real contact. Just breathing.

"You smell amazing," his voice was husky, full of gravel.

"That girl," I rambled, " I mean, I never was one of them to the extent that some of them are. Of course, I was infatuated to a certain degree, but not the degree that many of them were... Are—" I could hear the crazy coming out of my thoughts. _What the hell was I trying to say?_

"If you're referring to the screaming crazy girls, I know you weren't." He chuckled, "Aren't. I mean, if there was any doubt, you made that evident at the market when you literally ran from me, and then again, today, love."

My body stiffened. _Why had he said that? _It was so schtickish. Schmultz. What every fan-girl wanted to hear and what I'm sure led many of them into the bedroom. I had almost believed this was different. _You're stupid._

"I have to go, Edward," I said coldly. His head snapped up and he looked at me, but he didn't release his hold on my wrist.

"Why?" he could tell something had just changed, but he didn't know what.

"I am not some star-stuck slut you bring up to your hotel room for a bang," I spat angrily, glad at the shock I saw it produced in his eyes. He released my arm and stepped back.

"That's right," he looked angry, "Because I bring a girl up here a night. I don't even ask their names." His tone was increasingly hostile. But I wasn't afraid. He didn't strike me as the type to get violent physically.

"Well, if the shoe fits," I muttered, looking around for my purse. Angry is good, if I could make him angry enough, perhaps he'd ask me to leave. I turned toward the couch, thinking perhaps I'd laid my bag there, when he grabbed both of my arms and jerked me to him roughly.

"Stop it," he growled, "I'm not like that, and I think you know it. You knew me better than that once, Bella" he whispered angrily against my skin.

"That was four years ago! I don't know you anymore," I countered, struggling, albeit weakly.

"Then _get_ to know me," he moaned, silencing me with his mouth.

For a moment, I fought. I tried to pull back, but he had his hand behind my head. And then, almost instantly, I forgot what I was fighting about. Damn, the electricity had returned and I felt my entire body light up again. To be able to have a clear thought, I needed to not have him touching me, but to have him not touch me; I needed to have a clear thought. _What???_

I groaned inwardly and gave in. Our mouths moved rapidly, hungrily. There was little tenderness in his kiss at this moment. He was still angry; trying to convince me he wasn't a man-whore. _With a make-out session worthy of panty-dropping lust. _I didn't have the thought process to present my case anymore. I kissed him back eagerly, moving my hands to his hair, allowing him to draw me backwards to the couch. We fell onto it in a heap of flailing limbs and gasping breaths. It was as big as a bed. I kept thinking of all the articles I'd read about him. _Damn my ability to read._ What was true and what wasn't? I should've found a way to ask the bellman how many girls had been up here. What was this? _Don't kid yourself. This is a one-night-stand. _Crap, had I taken my pill this morning? Does he have condoms? _You're ruining this._

He maneuvered us until I was beneath him. Quickly, he worked my arms out of my hoodie and removed my scarf. His mouth never leaving mine. _Clever bastard._ I was putty. He reached back and pulled the loose ponytail out of my hair, letting it splay about me, running his hands through the dark tendrils and then massaging his fingers into my scalp. I moaned at the sensations his body sent through mine. I was gone. My hands twisted in his hair and then ran down his back. Simultaneously we grasped each other's shirts and began to pull upward. No small feat when you're lying on top of each other and lip-locked. Whenever he saw I wasn't breathing he would move his mouth to my chin, my jaw, my neck.

The second our respective shirts cleared our heads, his mouth returned to mine with a fury. The electric current never wavered. His tongue slid into my mouth forcefully and then slowed down, his kisses becoming more passionate. Tender. His hands had started to move slowly, gently. _Wait wait wait._

"Hold on," I gasped. He had moved down my neck now and was trailing soft kisses along my upper chest again. Moving downward. His warm breath between my breasts, which heaved in response.

"Mmmmm," he moaned in reply, he teeth raked across my skin and then pulled at the fabric of my bra.

"No, seriously, wait," I begged. I knew if he kept going, I wouldn't stop him. _Why was I stopping him? How many people got to be in this position?_

"Okay, what?" his head snapped up and I could see the anger had subsided. Full-blown lust was in his eyes now. _Not for you. He's toying with you._

"I'm serious," I pushed lightly and he supported himself on his elbows, looking down at me with hooded lids.

"Okay, I'm listening," he didn't _look_ annoyed, but he was an actor after all.

"I can't do this. Not like this." I apologized.

"You wanna move to the bedroom?" Edward looked confused.

"Yes. I mean, no!" I shook my head. So many thoughts were racing through my brain that I didn't know where to start.

"I mean, I can't sleep with you. I can't _do_ this," I waved between us. "I know it's crazy. Everyone would tell me it's crazy. I know you're offering... whatever..." I let my head fall flat and spoke to the ceiling. "I know you're not asking me out, asking me for a relationship... not that I want a relationship with you! FUCK, I am sounding more and more crazy."

I ran my hands through my hair and felt the tears threaten once more. Why was I so fucked up? Here was this gorgeous and fairly nice man, with an accent to die for, who happened to be possibly the most famous bachelor on the planet; practically begging me for it, _twice_ in one day and all I could think of was... _The Virgin Mary??? Where the hell did that come from?_

I shot up quickly, practically toppling him over, jumping off the couch, before I realized I was sans sweater and my breasts were bouncing practically out of my bra. He, of course, noticed, and he licked his lips absently as his eyes turned dark again.

I resisted the strong urge to cross myself and wondered what the hell I was supposed to say now. How do you get out of a situation like this? What do you say?

_Oh, just by the way, I've never actually gone all the way with someone because I never had a real boyfriend during school and all... because I could never stand anyone to touch me...and well, honestly, I never felt attracted to anyone in the least... which ran on forever...and then when I did get a boyfriend, which oddly became a fiance, he never did fuck me because there wasn't even enough sexual energy there to support a candle flicker much less a flame...and I still felt like vomiting on him most of the time if we even got remotely frisky...and then I found out he was screwing everything that moved on two legs...so I trust men even less than I did before which is pretty amazing considering I was raised being told what a little slut I was and that no man worth anything would want me because I was too much like my mother. Phew! Okay, so bye. No?_

I just stared at him. He was looking up at me as I had this mental exchange like I had suddenly been possessed by demons. I felt the tears rushing forth this time and there was no holding them back. His eyes widened and I know he was thinking what a complete and total nut job I was, but I was exhausted and couldn't help it now. _He's probably going to call security._

"Please, dear _God_, please tell me I'm not making you cry," his voice barely audible, he hung his head and ground his hands downward into the couch, arching his shoulders. His magnificent shoulders, his magnificent abs... _You are such a fucking moron._

"Please hand me—" Edward jumped up and shoved my sweater at me before I could finish, holding it up against my torso, covering my exposed flesh. I couldn't tell if it was because he was repulsed or just felt really badly for me_. If I were him, I was thinking I would vomit right now_.

Instead, he embraced me. Not in a sexual, groping way. He just wrapped his arms around me, letting me melt into his naked chest and sob. For a moment, I'm not sure how long, I just stood there, lifeless. My arms hung at my sides. I hadn't slept in almost twenty-four hours and I think I could fall asleep standing there if given the chance.

Then, as his embrace tightened, I wrapped my arms around his waist, snaking them upward, my face pressed against his chest, my body shaking as I tried to stop crying. My sweater pressed between us wasn't much of a barrier as it shifted downward while he enveloped me more completely, shushing me and gently placing kisses on my hair. When he swept me up in his arms, I didn't protest. He carried me from the room, continuing to coo at me and tell me it would be alright.

_Like hell it would. I am the most fucked up person on the planet. Bet you're glad you picked me up tonight. Here you just wanted to get laid and you choose crazy to bust a move on._

He strode slowly over to his bed, which was the size of a small bedroom in and of itself, and pulled back the covers, strewing decorative pillows, before lying me down and immediately crawling in over me. He wrapped me up in the covers, pulling me into his abdomen, kissing my forehead and letting out a deep breath as my 'exercise in humility' continued.

Somewhere in the midst of the tears that flowed freely from my eyes, racing down my cheeks and covering his and my bare chests...in the middle of his hoarse whispers to relax and sleep, that everything would be okay tomorrow...in the moment where reality and fiction merged and my labored breathing slowed, I felt that fuzzy feeling in my head get heavier and-- I think I fell a little bit in love with him. _Oh shit. _And then the room went black.

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**Anonymous Reviews are accepted too! I don't care if you have an account or not, I just want suggestions, thoughts, fortunes...random thoughts that have nothing to do with this story...**

**I have several more chapters already written. But am not above changing things around a bit if it would improve the story! See you soon! xx**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, like I said.**

**My Beta is Spectacular Spectacular...and named Danell.  
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**This chapter contains some "lemons," and the nature of said lemon may seem offensive to some, but just bear with me...all is not as it seems. Toss me some love pretty please!**

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Chapter Six

Somewhere in my sleep I'd lost my jeans. I assumed that Edward had removed them so I would be more comfortable. The idea of lying in bra and panties next to one of the most attractive men on earth, was not comforting.

I was somewhere between sleep and dreams, that lightly veiled place where you can feel the darkness around you, but you still have some sort of cognizance. The extent of my thinking ability however, was to snuggle deeper into the warm and soft down comforter, and try not to let my girl parts touch his boy parts.

That was when I realized Edward seemed to be only wearing boxers. _Must've touched something_.

I scooted away slightly and somehow, in his sleep, he sensed it. _The man must have radar. _

Instinctively, his hands shot out and wrapped around me again. My mind cleared and I felt myself coming awake slightly as his embrace softened and he lowered his face, tilting my head up by intertwining his hand in my hair.

His eyes were open. Groggy, but open. I attempted to stretch, just to move slightly away. Maybe he slept with his eyes open. _Well, that's just weird. _

His eyes burned into mine and then closed slowly, as he placed a kiss on my nose. Ah, okay. This was okay. I felt myself relax and prayed the electricity would stay away. He still held me in his clutches, but the magic wasn't turned on. I sighed and inhaled his scent deeply.

He smelled of sandalwood and soap, cigarettes and whiskey. _He obviously bathes!_ I smiled. Then his mouth moved again, his lips brushing each of my eyelids, and moving to my forehead as he rolled me to the side and onto my back. _Uh oh. Was he awake or not?_

His kisses remained soft, feather light, as he shifted his position to hover over me, his forearms maintaining his weight, his hands on either side of my head, threading through my long hair at the scalp. Then his attentions progressed. His lips sought out my own, a light moan escaping him as he requested and received admittance into my mouth eagerly. His kiss was urgent, but tender. I could feel my heartbeat increasing rapidly and I struggled to breathe.

Edward scooted down slightly and began kissing a trail along my jaw and to my neck, burying his face in the soft flesh there. He groaned as his legs moved purposefully, tucking a foot beneath one of my calves at a time and moving it outward, allowing his pelvis to align with mine. I gasped at the sensation of his growing hardness between my legs. _Shit shit shit._

My hands shot up and I rested my palms lightly on his pectorals, intending to push away gently. God, his chest felt so amazing._ Focus!_

I gave him a light push and he responded immediately. Just not the way I expected.

Continuing his fervent assault of the supple skin of my neck, his hands came forward and grasp each of my arms at the wrist, pulling them away and clasping me to the bed. Then he laced his fingers within mine and lifted his torso slightly.

"Keep them there, Bella," Edward whispered. _Um, yes sir? _

His hands let go of mine and traced up my arms, across my shoulders and down to my breasts, lightly grazing the soft mounds through my bra.

Kissing along the lines of black lace, he grabbed hold of each bra strap and pulled downward until he'd released my breasts of their confines, and my bra was down around my waist.

_How the hell did that happen?_

He smirked at me gently, but pointedly. _Ah, lots of practice, I get it, I get it._

Beginning again at my clavicle, seeming to be his favorite spot, Edward began his downward spiral by placing kisses along the way. His hand grazed my right breast and I gasped at the sensation. He chuckled and took the entire breast in his hand, squeezing lightly, pinching the nipple. My back arched in response and my head screamed to stop.

What was going on? I thought he'd understood somehow. He'd told me to just sleep and relax, that everything would be okay. Had this been his plan? Despite the heavy fog in my brain, I tried again to push against his shoulders.

Edward lowered his mouth to my breast in response, devouring it hungrily, as though his existence completely depended on the sustenance there-in. I wanted to stop him; I could **not** do this! I could not be that girl. I told him that.

No matter how my mind screamed, my hands wouldn't move.

He moaned against my breast and I could feel his length, hard against my body. His hips were moving slightly and I knew this was going nowhere good. Where was my voice? Why couldn't I speak?

_Oh, yeah, because a sex god was suckling you like...well, like a sex god._

While his mouth and one hand continued ministrations on my breasts, Edward's other hand slid downward, palming my stomach, then travelled to my panties. As he massaged between my legs, through the material, I felt my last shred of dignity disappear. I felt a tear stream down my cheek and found myself whispering for him to stop. His only response was a moan.

Quickly, the material between us disappeared...I'm not sure where it went, just that it was gone. He had stopped his endeavors with my breasts and now had himself in correct position, his hands flat on the bed on either side of my head.

Edward thrust into me in one swift motion, covering my mouth with his as I cried out in pain. He moaned and with one hand pulled my knee up and tucked my leg behind his back, nodding for me to imitate the action with the other one. I did as told.

He groaned and muttered something about better access, as his actions deepened; ignoring my tears. I turned my head away, not caring if he noticed, and he buried his face into my shoulder, hunching his back and thrusting harder. His groans and grunts grew louder and sharper, now followed by my gasps.

It wasn't completely unpleasant of course, but the utter humiliation had returned, as I realized this had not been a joint decision and that more than likely this had been his plan all evening.

_How stupid are you? Of COURSE this was his plan all evening. You didn't think he really wanted you for more than a lay? You just made it more interesting of a game for him, that's all._

My tears were flowing feely now, but Edward was too far gone to notice. He exclaimed something about being close and did I think I could go soon, because he didn't think he could hold out much longer.

_How sweet._

I didn't respond, I focused on the drapes covering the windows and thanked God they were closed as he came hard inside me, shuddering and going limp before collapsing on top of me.

The sweat from our bodies was palpable. For a second, I thought I was going to hurl right here all over him, and actually felt horrible for it.

_What is wrong with me? _

"Was that as good for you as it was for me?" Edward leered at me through squinted eyes when he picked his head up.

Everybody's favorite crooked smile lazily forming on his face.

The sweat droplets cascading lightly down from his chin and hair; plunked to my chest like scorching hot daggers.

He leaned down and raked his warm lips across mine gently, not even asking why I had not yet spoken. Or why I had a look of abject horror on my features. His mouth made its way languidly up my jaw and began sucking lightly on my neck. I heard him groan deeply.

In one swift movement he flipped me over, his sweaty body pressed into my back. He grasped a handful of my hair and twisted it tightly, pulling my neck to the side and moaning in my ear.

I could just barely see him out of the corner of my eye as I gasped and tried to find my voice, desperately choking on my tears which were now flowing freely.

"I could go again," his head snapped up, as his feet pushed my legs apart and he grinned wickedly, "You?"

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I sat up straight in bed, a winded gasp escaping my lips, and both hands clutching my breasts, which were now amazingly enough covered with my sweater. My shirt had not been on me when I fell asleep...had it?

I looked over to where Edward lay sleeping soundly. His face turned toward me. His mouth in a slight smile. His eyelids visibly moving as his dreams danced through his mind. He was still fully clothed as well.

I let out a sigh. Holy shit, what a nightmare. I pushed my hair away, noting it was practically saturated with perspiration.

Rolling off the mattress slowly, I staggered over to my phone and checked the time. Four-thirty a.m. I didn't have to work today. I had nowhere to be. But for some reason, I had the intense need to get away.

I suddenly realized in panic that I could not face him. I knew he had taken pity on me last night and not kicked me out for being insane. I knew that some part of me fell for him after he had behaved so gentlemanly and kind.

To even finish dressing me after my crying subsided and he knew I was asleep. He was certainly not up to what my "dream Edward lethario" had been.

And that made it harder to bear. He had done nothing _remotely_ as devious in reality as I had just created in my mind. Edward had been a saint compared to my imagination. He had willingly accepted my breakdown last night and still shown me tenderness.

I had accused him of all manner of evils. I had accused **him** of being the villian.

When all along, it was me.

I started to leave a note before I left his room, but in the end, there was nothing near fitting for me to say.

**/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/**

"Okay, so spill it," Alice and Rosalie both eyed me intently. I had called Ali as soon as the sun was up. I knew she'd be going to the gym, so I arranged to meet her there.

Neither of us had known that Rosalie would show up, but once the perky fake blonde arrived, there was nothing we could do about it.

"Yes, um, I feel like I've been left out of some _entertainment loop_," Rosalie chided cattily as she hopped on the stairmaster.

"This isn't entertainment, Rose," I scowled, "This is my _life_ we're talking about."

"Yeah, well, tell that to the paparazzi taking your picture last night with Edward fucking Cullen!" she practically shrieked like a banshee.

I looked around the machine room and cringed. A few people had looked up with curious expressions, and I avoided their eyes.

"Could you keep your voice down, please?" I implored.

"Sorry," Rosalie said in a tone I knew meant she wasn't really. "So, Alice filled me in on a few particulars. We now know that Edward Cullen was _indeed_ Randle P. McMurphy? What the fuck was that about?"

"I don't know, honestly," I answered, kicking up the speed on the treadmill. I truly didn't have the energy for a workout, but I was way too wired to sleep. I think I'd got perhaps two and a half hours shut-eye at Edward's before waking. And it had been fitful.

"He said it got shut down," I waved at her dismissively when she looked like she didn't believe me. "He got busy with his _stardom_, basically...and when I ran into him in the grocery last week—"

"What?" Rosalie shrilled in shock.

"Are you going to do that every time I say something?" I rolled my eyes. Why was I telling her this again? _Because you keep your friends close and your enemies closer. _

_Which was Rosalie, again?_

"Okay," she lowered her voice as a cohort, "Continue, please. You ran into him at the grocery?"

"Long story short, he recognized her from a few years back," Alice intervened thankfully. Her little forehead was barely beaded with perspiration as she jogged on a treadmill. My hair was already matted with sweat.

I hated working out with actresses who were at least 3 sizes smaller than me. _What is she now? A negative two?_

"Really?" Rosalie's tone betrayed she found that incredible at best. "I'm sorry, and then what?"

"And then nothing. He said hi," I studied CNN on the screen in front of me and prayed that Rose was being typically unintuitive. I didn't need her to know all the details right now.

"He said hi. And that's it? Why did he follow you to the restaurant last night? Why did you leave with him?" She wasn't buying it.

"Look, Rose," Alice cut in again, "He and Bella were..._close_...back when we all were talking to him on Facebook."

"Ew," Rosalie cringed, "You mean back before, when we were _nobodies_." She shuddered. The very crux to her existence rested in Rose's celebrity.

"I'm still a nobody," I muttered softly. I didn't like her implications. Like you can't be anybody unless you were famous.

"No, you are not," Alice chirped angrily.

"No!" Rose gushed, "You're OUR friend." She beamed as if she had just righted all with the world. I resisted the urge to push her off the stairmaster.

"Thanks," I sighed.

"Look, there's obviously more going on here and you may as well dish. I know you and Alice are closer," she waved away my widened eyes, "But I do care about you too....besides, I'll just read about it in the gossip rags later so I may as well hear about it from you." Rosalie laughed. She was so amused with this sadistic twist of fate. I supposed it was because if it were her, she would be eating it up with a fucking fork, knife and spoon.

"Okay, so he wants to be my friend," I explained, hoping, rather than believing that she would buy it. _What did he want again, exactly?_

"Your _friend_?" she didn't believe it.

"Yes, you know...friends? It is possible you know, Rose," I shrugged.

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes. "So where did you go after the restaurant?"

"His hotel," I muttered as though it were a bad word.

"I knew it! You fucked him!" she cackled.

"No, I did not!" I looked at her in complete and utter shock. I could feel all the blood drain from my face and I felt like I might faint at any moment. I slid backwards and stepped off the treadmill, sitting on the side and resting my head in my hands.

"You were in a hotel room with Edward fucking Cullen and you _still_ couldn't bring yourself to do the deed???" she had catapulted off the stair master and was by my side in a flash.

Alice approached and silently squatted in front of me, sympathy in her eyes. She patted my hand and swept a strand of hair out of my face. I felt like I might vomit, but knew there was nothing in my stomach to come up. I could feel bile creeping forward.

"Not helping," Ali looked up at Rose and rolled her eyes. "I'm sure there is a little bit more to it than that. Right Bella?" her eyes, bright blue from her workout, questioned me.

"Oh, no," I stood up now and began to retreat to the ladies locker room.

I could hear them following in pursuit and Alice telling Rose to shut up and for the love of Pete be nice. I heard Rosalie say something about there being therapists for this kind of thing and that's when I lost it.

"Really, Rose?" I turned on my heel and hissed as the locker room door swung shut and we were safely ensconced inside. "They have therapists? I didn't know that! I haven't been to, what...four therapists? Three of which thought that sex with _them_ would cure what ails me! I'm sorry I don't live up to your expectations of me! I have never lived up to _anyone's _expectations of me! I'm sorry I'm not like you, I can't sleep with random strangers just for fun!"

I was seething. I hadn't slept well in almost a month and exhaustion had more than taken over. Recent events had not helped my sanity.

"I do not sleep with random strangers!" she began, then receiving incredulous looks from both myself and Alice, she conceded, "Okay, well, not that often! The point is, this wasn't a random stranger! You _supposedly_ had such a connection back then..." Rosalie made little air quotes for added emphasis, "and then he is running around all over town after you..."

"It's very random! The fact that he was in fact, McMurphy, or McMurphy was in fact him...it's all very random. I had decided back when we were communicating, that I honestly didn't care if he was really Edward Cullen. I liked him for him. The books and music, the dreams and plans. We talked about everything...." I trailed off, deep in thought for a moment.

"...Yes?" Rosalie sounded impatient and Alice eyed me with concern. I had tried very hard not to think about all we'd had in common back when we were writing each other, sometimes several times a day.

"For him to turn out to be him, in fact," I let out a loud sigh, "after disappearing without a word, and reappearing just as...."

My two friends watched this exchange with myself with similar expressions. I wasn't sure if they were amused, or if they pitied me. _Witnessing the musings of a mad woman._

"And how many girls a night go up to that hotel room? How many screaming crazies has he slept with? I felt like a notch on a bedpost," I lowered my voice to almost a whisper. I knew that my accusations of him weren't fair, and I didn't really think that was the case.

"Well, what about Emmett?" Rose asked. "He wasn't random. He was your fiancé, for Christ sake!"

"Oh, right, my _fiancé_," it was my turn to make little quote motions in the air, "He did everything but make me feel secure in our relationship! He always had one foot out the door! And come to find out it was because he was getting...some...on the side. Yet _another_ man to show me _not_ to trust men!"

"Well, good grief, Bella, sex doesn't have to accompany trust," Rosalie spoke as though talking to a child. "And maybe Emmett wouldn't have--" she began to sound shrill, but Alice cut her off.

"You know what? This is enough about Emmett and Bella's relationship. That is water under the bridge. We all need to calm down," she motioned for us to sit on the benches and I took a deep breath to try and relax my bristling temper.

"Look, the point is, we went up to his hotel to talk. Just to sort out the past," I began.

"Damn, if I'd been with Edward fucking Cullen last night—" I cringed at his new found middle name that flowed off her lips so easily.

"Excuse me?" a small voice interrupted us from our not so private discussion. We all looked at each other, sensing the sitcom 'fan discussion' coming.

"Could you sign this, please?" she asked tentatively.

Alice and Rosalie exchanged glances and then we all looked up at the teenage girl who was holding out a local smut rag and a pen. As she stepped forward and Rose made ready to take it from her and sign the offensive article, I gasped in astonishment as she shook her head and thrust it in my face instead.

"I recognized you from this photo when you came into the gym this morning," the girl apologetically told me. "Then when I came in here after you, I heard you all talking about..._Edward Cullen_," she gushed.

I grabbed the papers from her and lowered my eyes in fear. Rosalie and Alice let out simultaneous whistles at the picture. It was from last night, after we thought the photographers had left us alone. One of them had obviously snuck around inside and turned their flash off. The garage was well lit enough to illuminate the photograph.

I was up against the wall of the parking garage where Edward had asked me to wait. He had just returned to me and was stroking my collar bone through my thin sweater and leaning into me. His neck was craned down and over in an attempt to watch my expression, a soft, barely there smile on his lips.

I remember this from one of the many moments I felt like I was going into cardiac arrest from his touch. It was a very intimate looking moment and I felt as though someone had taken a picture of me in the shower or something.

The headline read, "ED'S NEW FLAVOR."

_I'm going to hurl prodigious amounts of vomitus into this girl's face._

"I'm sorry," I handed the cheap thrill back to the girl along with the pen, "I'm not a celebrity. You don't want my signature. I'm nobody."

"If you're dating Edward Cullen, you won't be a nobody for long," she said firmly, but somehow kindly.

"She's not a nobody!" Alice and Rosalie echoed at once.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to offend anyone," the girl looked sheepish and began to step away, "I love _Strangers_, by the way," she smiled at my two best friends. Rosalie grinned, forgetting her anger; but Alice struggled to smile flatly.

"What do I do?" I whispered after the girl had walked away. "I can't go back now, but I should warn him!"

"Warn him? Of what?" Rosalie looked confused, "He deals with this on a daily basis. He won't be surprised....and what do you mean, you can't go back? What happened?" her eyes narrowed.

"Nothing. Well...I left before he woke up this morning," I winced.

"You...but I thought you said," Alice shook her head.

"No, we didn't have..._sex_..." I waved at them, rushing to my locker and stripping out of my gym clothes. "But I spent the night."

"In the same bed, or on the couch?" Rose asked.

"Why does that matter?" Alice asked.

"Oh, believe me, it does," Rosalie laughed.

"The bed. I slept in the bed," I rolled my eyes for the millionth time since first seeing Rose today.

"And where did Mr. Fucking Hotness sleep?" my sexually deviant friend was grinning blatantly.

"Look," I spun around to face them both, "He slept in the bed too, okay? We were fooling around a little, and I couldn't stand the thought of being some Hollywood Hooker, so..."

"So, what? You decided to just cuddle instead? Why didn't you just leave?" Rosalie just kept getting shock after shock from my too ridiculous to believe story.

I sat down on the bench, in nothing but my bra and panties, clutching my towel and slipping on my flip flops. I thought about racing to the shower and refusing to answer anymore questions. These were supposed to be my closest friends though. Why didn't I feel comfortable telling them this? They knew the worst about my past already.

"He wouldn't let me," I whispered. "I got...upset. So, he was a.... good...friend, and consoled me....NOT the way you're thinking," I looked up at Rosalie and to my amazement she wasn't protesting. She looked shocked. Not in a mean and spiteful way like usual. Just surprised.

"Fuck," she finally whispered in reply.

* * *

**Proclaimed love, anonymous love, carrier pidgeon love....all such and random others are MOST welcome!!! xxx**


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